An Introduction to this Blog

This blog emphasizes the importance of combining the breath and meditation

There are two methods that I teach in private practice:

1. Transformational breathwork (alternatively called 'rebirthing' or 'the healing breath')

2. Transcendental deep meditation (based on raja yoga)

It is my experience that both methods are necessary on the path of self-realization and for the experience of wholeness.

Transformational Breathwork is effective for emotional clearing and for the removal negative thought patterns -- assuming it is applied properly by an experienced and knowledgeable breathworker.

Transcendental Deep Meditation allows the meditator to transcend the usual 'busyness' of the mind and access a foundational state of silent awareness. This silent awareness is the essence of 'being' and its true nature is 'consciousness'. The practice of T.D.M. is a powerful complement to the emotional clearing process of Transformational Breathwork.

I teach both methods and I encourage my clients to incorporate both practices into their daily routine.

If you are interested in private sessions, please email me directly at: duartmc9@gmail.com. Please include your phone number, if possible.

This blog embraces both the rational and the intuitive

Much has been written about the New Age, some of it positive, some of it skeptical, and some of it blatantly negative. Well, no one can deny that we are in a new age. I was born in 1950 and as of today, 2011, my world is entirely different. For me, this is certainly a new age.

This blog is neither pro-new age nor anti-new age. It is concerned with reality and truth, health and well-being, relationships and leadership. Since I am a longtime practitioner and teacher of these two self-development methodologies -- transformational breathwork and transcendental deep meditation -- some may consider me a new age 'true believer'. Well, I am not.

I am a rationalist with a strong penchant for empiricism. I am also deeply interested in spirituality and the notion of self-realization or 'enlightenment'. Finally, I understand that as important as reason and empiricism are, they too have their limits. There are limits to thought. There is a dimension to life which cannot be accessed by the intellect alone. I call this dimension 'being-consciousness'.

The dimension of 'being-consciousness', in terms of philosophy, falls into a category called 'ontology', which is a study of the nature of 'being'. Since being is not a 'thing', it cannot be accessed directly by either the senses or the intellect. Yet, no-one can deny that he or she has 'being' since in order for any experience whatsoever to occur, there must be 'being'. In its absence, there will be no experience at all. What provides continuity to the continually changing contents of our life experience is 'being'. It is because we are 'being' that we can create some kind of description that gives order to our life.

Most of the essays which I have written for this blog are philosophical in nature. I draw on inference, deduction and analysis throughout. You may agree or disagree with what I write, but you will find that I do not make wild assertions. I do, however, present arguments in favor of various possibilities which I feel intuitively are valid and worth reflecting upon.

Please read to your heart's content. I truly welcome comments, both positive and critical and will, to the best of my ability, respond to all of them.

Namaste

Duart Maclean

Self-Enquiry -- 'Who am I?'

‘Siva is the Being assuming all forms and the Consciousness seeing them. That is to say, Siva is the background underlying both the subject and the object. Everything has its being in Siva and because of Siva.’
Sri Ramana Maharshi (1879 - 1950)

Self-enquiry (atma-vichara) has been called the Maha (Great) Yoga because it is a direct path to Self-realisation. Self-enquiry deals head on with the most fundamental philosophical and personal question we can raise: ‘Who am I?’ The practice of Self-enquiry is very ancient and traditionally has been considered suitable only for those who have renounced everything in their one-pointed search for truth. In more recent times, Ramana Maharshi has revitalised this timeless path, making it accessible to all seekers, even those with busy lives and crammed agendas.

This method can be practised in a formal way by setting aside a certain period of time each day (for example, 20 minutes upon arising and 20 minutes before retiring) or it can be practised informally for a few minutes here and there as the opportunity or motivation presents itself. As we progress on this path, Self-enquiry becomes an automatic process that continues unbroken throughout the day. It can be done while working or speaking, without reducing our ability to function efficiently. For beginners, however, a set period of time set aside each day is recommended until the practice is firmly established.

In order to experience anything – a tree, another human being, a desire, an emotion or a physical sensation – there first must be someone who is experiencing. Before we can know an ‘it’, ‘he’ or ‘they’, the ‘I’ must already be established. During deep sleep there is no sense of ‘I’, nor is there any awareness of objects, whether subtle or gross. When we enter the dreaming state, the sense of ‘I’ reappears, as do all of the characters and objects of the dream experience. In other words, the second and third persons (‘you’, ‘he’, ‘it’, 'they') cannot exist in the absence of the first person singular (‘I’). The sense of ‘I am’ is the only stable aspect of experience, since the objects of experience themselves are continually changing. People, places and things come and go in our lives, but we remain. Our own bodies will change, sometimes drastically, but the ‘I am’ associated with our body will remain firm. This ‘I am’ is the only subject, whereas all else are objects. Even God is an object to the subject, ‘I am’.

Now the strange thing about human beings is our curiosity about nearly everything except ourselves. We devote our lives to understanding the world, God, the cosmos, atomic and subatomic realms etc. but very few of us make a serious effort at self-understanding. We ask endless questions about the nature of things, but we never question the questioner. Who is this questioner who wants to understand God and the universe? If we are ignorant about ourselves, then how can we be sure of our knowledge of anything else? Unless we know the subject, how can we claim to know the object? The German physicist, Werner Heisenberg, established that the act of observation or measurement affects the phenomenon being observed or measured. He wrote, ‘What we observe is not nature in itself but nature exposed to our method of questioning.’ With this insight he formulated his famous ‘indeterminacy principle’ which demolished the cherished notion of the scientist as a detached, objective observer. If the world we see is basically a creation of our own way of thinking, asking and perceiving, doesn’t it make more sense to first know the thinker, questioner and perceiver? Instead, what we do is assume that what we perceive is the world as it actually is and then proceed to act on that assumption. As history reveals, this often leads to horrendous results. The philosopher, Bertrand Russell, humorously illustrates this with a barnyard story. Each morning at sunrise a flock of chickens would run excitedly toward the friendly farmer who appeared with a bucket of chicken feed. This went on for many months. They were happy to feel so taken care of and well fed, and would look forward to the farmer’s next visit. Then one sunrise he arrived as expected and they all ran to greet him as usual, but this time instead of carrying a bucket of feed he was carrying an axe. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Ramana Maharshi lived through the difficult period of the two world wars and the great depression. Westerners regularly came to visit him and many felt burdened with the cares of the world. They would ask him, ‘How can we end war and bring about world peace?’ ‘How can we feed and uplift the hungry, depressed masses?’ ‘What is the future of the human race?’, etc. Sri Ramana’s reply was always the same. ‘Why do you worry about world peace when you have not yet found peace within yourself ? Why do you want to know about the future when you do not yet know the questioner in the present? First know whom it is that is asking the question and then see if the question is still there.’ Although Sri Ramana was mostly silent during his lifetime, whenever visitors would ask him sincere questions about the nature of the Self and their personal challenges he would answer. Those, however, who asked questions out of mere curiosity or from a misplaced sense of responsibility, questions such as, ‘What can we do to save the world?’, would invariably be met with silence. Some found the sage’s reticence too uncomfortable and would leave, but many stayed and used the intense, pervading Silence they felt in his proximity to look within and would experience an inner revolution that transformed their lives.

In the method of Self-enquiry, the enquirer is asked to seek the source of the ‘I-thought’. This ‘I-thought’ is synonymous with the ego and is not the Self, who is pure Consciousness transcending all form and substance. Nevertheless, the ‘I-thought’ arises from the Self and has its being in the Self. In the absence of the Self there can be no ‘I-thought’, since all thoughts require the light of consciousness in order to appear. The Self is itself Consciousness, as well as the source of our empirical consciousness -- i.e., our consciousness of things. In fact, all phenomena, from atoms to galaxies, appear by virtue of the borrowed light of the intelligent Self.

The ‘I-thought’ always takes the form of a limiting identification, which is invariably the ‘I-am-the-body’ idea. The ‘I-am-the-body’ idea is not false but neither is it true, and this is the cause of our worries, fears and tensions. It is also the root cause of our aggression in all of its ugly forms. For certain the body is the vehicle through which the Self finds expression in this realm of existence. In this sense, the ‘I-am-the-body’ idea is correct. However, it is false when the Self is considered to be limited to, or in any way dependent upon, the body. For one thing, the body is mortal, whereas the Self is immortal and untouched by the creation and dissolution of the organism; furthermore, the laws of time and space condition and determine the destiny of the body, whereas the Self stands aloof from these limiting factors. In other the words, the body is inescapably mortal and bound, whereas the Self is inherently immortal and free. Self-realisation simply entails awakening to the reality that who we are is the all-inclusive Self and not merely the physical body or some subtle etheric substance inhabiting the body.

This awakening to the Self is not something conceptual. It comes with a letting go of our limited and erroneous notions of what we are and a complete surrender of our egoistic tendencies. Such a transformation is a complete internal revolution, which touches every fiber of our being; it cannot be obtained by reading books, although books can be useful allies on the path. It also cannot be attained by changing the external circumstances of our life. Abandoning our families or quitting our jobs to lead a monastic life is unnecessary, because the real work is entirely internal. The philosophy underpinning the process of Self-enquiry says, ‘You are already the Self, all you need do is let go of the idea that you are something other.’ By tracing the ‘I-thought’, which is a limited sense of self, back to its Source we realise the truth of our Being. This does not require changing our religion, lifestyle or dropping our duties. It does mean a consistent and committed inner quest to abandon our false ideas and beliefs about our true nature. It is work that no one can do for us. There is no higher Power that can save us, for in reality we are that very higher Power we seek and as such are fully capable of our own salvation.

There are a couple of ways of practising the Self-enquiry. One way is to dwell on the sense of ‘I am’ constantly. Nisargadatta Maharaj, a younger contemporary of Ramana Maharshi, taught this method. Aham-bhava is the Sanskrit term for the sense or feeling of ‘I am’. This feeling of ‘I am’ is subtler than thoughts, emotions or body awareness. Aham-bhava is subtle like space and with practice the conscious mind can become aware of it. The feeling of aham-bhava is always there, but because the mind is habitually focussed on external sensations, objects and mental projections, such as thoughts, memories and desires, we are unaware of it. By turning the attention inward – away from sense objects, desires, emotions and even thoughts – we become aware of this subtle feeling of our own existence, the ‘I am’.

Ramana Maharshi encouraged seekers to turn their attention inward by actually looking for the ‘I-thought’ and seeing if they could find it. By actively looking for the ‘I-thought’ the attention is automatically withdrawn from sense objects, desires, etc. and directed inward. The mind, however, will not be able to find the ‘I-thought’, which is like a fleeting shadow that disappears the moment the light of awareness is focussed on it. In this single movement of the mind toward the ‘I-thought’, both the external world and the ‘I-thought’ itself will vanish, allowing the pure Self to flash forth as an intense, silent Awareness free of thought and all other phenomena.

Generally, Sri Ramana recommended the following method, which can be practised either sitting quietly or while involved in normal activities. Start by observing the mind and its contents. Whatever is momentarily present in consciousness, whether a thought, emotion or desire, etc., silently ask the following question:

‘For whom is this thought (emotion, etc)?’

The natural, unspoken response will be:

‘For me’.

Then ask silently:

‘Who am I?’

At this point, either search for the ‘I-thought’, as previously suggested, or put the attention directly onto the feeling of ‘I am' (aham-bhava). In either case, the mind will momentarily merge into the Source from which it originally arose, i.e., the Self. With practice, this merging will lengthen and returning the mind to its Source will become increasingly easy and natural. It should be noted that the question, ‘Who am I?’ does not call for an intellectual response. The Self-enquiry is not an intellectual process; rather it is a seeking for the very Source of the intellect itself. Self-enquiry is not analysis; it is a surrendering of the intellect to the Self and a merging of the mind into the Heart.

For those who found the direct method of Self-enquiry too challenging, Sri Ramana would sometimes suggest alternatives, such as meditating with a mantra. Accordingly, he offered the following approach. In his own words:

"Among the many names of God, no name suits God, who abides in the Heart, devoid of thought, so truly, aptly, and beautifully as the name ‘I’ or ‘I am’ (aham). Of all the known names of God, the name of God, ‘aham – aham’, alone will resound triumphantly when the ego is destroyed, rising as the silent supreme Word (mouna-para-vak) in the Heart-space of those whose attention is Selfward-facing. Even if one unceasingly meditates upon that name, ‘I – I’, with one’s attention on the feeling ‘I am’ (aham), it will take one and plunge it into the source from which the thought arises, destroying the ego…"

Self-enquiry weakens and destroys the samskaras (impressions) which form the basis of our patterns (vasanas) and negative conditioning. On this path of Self-knowledge (jnana) the direct intuition of the Self is a liberating insight, which like fire burns the seeds of our samskaras and destroys their capacity to germinate as patterns. The method of Self-enquiry is a simple yet potent weapon, along with the breath and other practices of yoga, for overcoming our patterns and negative self-concept, strengthening our self-esteem and personal power and, ultimately, bringing us to full Awakening in the Self.

Adi Shankara and Superimposition

An Indian sage once wrote: '...it is wrong to superimpose upon the subject...the attributes of the object and, conversely, to superimpose...[upon the object] the attributes of the subject.' With these words, Adi Shankara (India, eighth century) pierced the gordian knot of human misery. The primal cause of human suffering is a false superimposition in the mind of an object on the subject. It is this fundamental confusing of the respective natures of subject and object which produces our personal anguish and anxiety and, by extension our social tensions and conflicts.

Our knowledge of things is ultimately rooted in experience, and ordinary experience always involves an object or event as well as a subject. In order to more easily grasp the notion of superimposition, Shankara gives an illustration using two objects, rather than the more difficult relation of subject and object. Shankara defines superimposition as, 'the apparent presentation to consciousness, in the form of remembrance, of something previously observed in some other thing existing now.' He demonstrates this false superimposition with the example of a snake and a rope. A man on a road sees a snake coiled up and ready to strike. He jumps back in fear. He peers through the evening gloom at object of his fear and gives a sigh of relief when he realizes his mistake: the snake is merely a piece a rope. He walks on.

The man had unconsciously superimposed on the rope his memory of a snake. All of this happened within his own consciousness although he was convinced the snake was real and external to himself. The phenomenon of superimposition creates illusions which can trigger a whole chain of events. In our example, the man's misperception triggered the emotion of fear and stopped him in his tracks. Other forms of superimposition can be more catastrophic, as when a vengeful man murders an innocent person. In fact, a good case can be made that most human conflict, including war and genocide, is rooted in misperceptions arising from superimposition.

Regarding the more difficult matter of superimposition occurring between subject and object, Shankara affirms that it is natural for human beings to superimpose the qualities of the object on the subject. However, he also holds that this tendency is deeply flawed. The essence of his argument is that the subject can never become its own object and therefore can never have observable qualities. For example, the self as subject cannot attribute a quality to itself such as, 'white skin' or 'green eyes' while at the same time observing its white skin or green eyes. This would be tantamount to stating that 'my white skin' is observing 'my white skin'. In order for the subject to remain the subject it cannot assume observable qualities, such as colour, taste, emotions, beliefs, size, location, etc. Once an observable quality has been assigned to the subject, the subject then becomes an object which is observable to itself: an impossibility since this would require one subject which is the object and a second subject looking at the first while simultaneously being the first. It is true that common sense generally finds this acceptable with regards to other persons (e.g.,'he is white'). However, the contradiction becomes obvious when a quality is assigned to the self that is assigning it. When the 'I'- subject is turned into an 'I'-object, who then is the subject observing the object that 'I am'? Such a conundrum invites an infinite regression of witnessing subjects. In order to avoid this logical impasse nothing empirical can be attributed to the original subject, which must remain qualityless.

Shankara makes a clear distinction between the ego and the subject. The ego is a creation of the internal organ (mind), which involves memory, intellect, emotion, desire and conditioning and it stands as an object in relation to the subject. He notes that human beings associate the ego with the self and, by extension, mistakenly associate this self with the subject. He points out that if the self is equated with the ego, then the self cannot be the subject.

Step by step, Shankara establishes that the subject is neither the ego nor the self nor the body nor the internal organ (mind). Through relentless analysis, he pushes us up against the question: "What is this 'subject' which knows, observes and witnesses all these gross and subtle phenomena: the self, the ego, thoughts, memories, feelings, urges, sensations, bodies, people, landscapes, planets, stars, the universe?" If the subject itself can never be observed or measured, then does it really exist? Is the subject real or is it merely a fiction? Or, if it does exist, is it simply not verifiable in the ways humans normally verify something? Is it a reality which cannot be tested through our normal channels of investigation: observation, analysis, deduction, inference, and the independent corroboration of others?

Having identified the virus at the root of the disease, Shankara was able to identify and prescribe the cure. Travelling the length and breadth of India this remarkable man discoursed and debated with the greatest philosophers and gurus of the land. The result was the profound spiritual regeneration of an ancient civilization. Shankara's genius has not dimmed with the passage of time and those who study his writings today are impressed by the depth, precision and originality of his thinking.

Philosophically, Shankara was not a skeptic, yet an important aspect of his genius was his ability to take the position of the skeptic. Shankara respected healthy skeptism, but was himself a master of the highest and oldest school of yoga, the 'yoga of knowledge' (jnana yoga).

The World of Agreement

The world we know is a function of collective agreements built up over time. Our world is an interpretation or story which is undergoing continual modification, although the foundations of this story are rarely questioned. The undefined sense-data presented by the senses in themselves tell us nothing, although the body can immediately distinguish the difference between pleasure and pain. At a very early age we begin to build up a picture of our environment and of ourselves, and this picture is largely imposed upon us by others in our immediate surroundings, particularly our parents or guardians. The urge to survive, to experience pleasure and avoid pain is the driving force from within which pushes us to understand how to survive and flourish. The body's fight or flight mechanism which is primitive and instinctual protects us from immediate danger, thus whenever even very young children feel threatened they automatically run the other way. When we become bigger and stronger, we may choose to fight if we feel the odds are in our favour or if the flight option is not available. Our parents, of course, have learned how to survive and their primary concern is to pass this knowledge on to us. This is their first responsibility and we can observe that all parents of all species do exactly the same thing with their offspring.

Our basic assumptions about life and about ourselves are formulated before we develop the faculty of discriminative thinking, which is around the time of adolescence. Collectively, our basic assumptions function as an underlying structure which shapes how we perceive our world. This largely unconscious filter shapes our identity and gives us our sense of self, of who we are. It is the unexamined paradigm by which we define ourselves and also assess the validity and acceptability of all new knowledge and experience. It gives us our moral sense. Any future information that challenges this underlying structure automatically threatens our self-indentity, triggering a hostile response from our side. The examples of race, culture or religion demonstrates this. If one of my basic, inherited assumptions is that caucasians are intellectually and morally superior to the other races, then my daughter bringing home a coloured boyfriend will automatically trigger a negative response, preceding any rational thought I may give the situation. In fact, this automatic response will also serve to block any truly objective thinking on the matter. Why? Because, this situation threatens my basic assumptions and, by extension, threatens me and my identity. Children are not born prejudiced, they are taught prejudice, and usually not in any formal way. They simply pick it up from their environment. What they do, unconsciously, is to agree to the prejudiced ideas they are exposed to. They accept the myth that some races, religions, etc., are superior to others, and this myth becomes one of the basic assumptions through which they view the world. It becomes part of the paradigm. It is something they have agreed with, albeit largely unconsciously. And, until they do a serious self-enquiry as to the nature and validity of their prejudice, they will be stuck with it.

The previous example is obvious, but there are deeper, more insidious assumptions which make up part of the underlying structure by which I define myself and my world. This time it is negative judgments directed not at others but at my self. If a parent or guardian had an abysmal sense of self-worth and an angry, judgmental outlook on life, then as a child I could easily become the target. I could find myself repeatedly attacked with emotionally-charged comments such as, 'You're a good-for-nothing', 'You're too stupid to succeed', 'You're a disappointment', 'You don't have what it takes to make', 'Nobody will want you', etc. In such an environment, especially if I do not have positive support from other adults, I will end up with a basic assumption that who I am is simply not good enough or adequate or loved and wanted. This unconscious, unexamined self-assessment will sabotage my happiness in every area of my life: success, career, money, love, friendship and so forth. I will find myself de-motivated and struggling in all of my projects and aspirations. Lacking confidence, I will accept defeat easily. I will quit rather than persevere in the face of setbacks. I will not complete things. I will not believe in my own choices. And all of this will be because of an agreement I have made with myself about myself. If I want to transform this, I will have no option but to do a self-enquiry concerning my true feelings and beliefs about myself and make a new agreement with myself about myself.

The negative agreements we make about ourselves are so insidious that we will resent those who actually support us in being successful: the teacher, friend, colleague or lover who says, 'You're good enough to succeed, I believe in you!' Why? Because my negative self-assessment -- the agreement I made about myself -- is integral to the paradigm which gives me my identity. Any information to the contrary will threaten this paradigm and I will likely end up attacking those people who support me the most. I will actually feel more comfortable spending time with people who perceive me as a loser.

It is important to recognize that our low self-esteem is a result of agreements we made about ourselves. This way, we will be able to assume personal responsibility as the ultimate creator of our self-image rather than abdicate responsibility by playing the loser's card called 'I'm a victim': 'My father is to blame for my low self-esteem, it's his fault!' The loser's card keeps us trapped in a vicious cycle of resentment and revenge, which is another way of saying hell.

Agreement also governs large groups of people. Just as there are individual paradigms, there are cultural paradigms. Just as individuals clash, cultures clash. A good example of this was Spain's conquest of Mexico in the 16th century. When Spanish conquistadors and priests encountered the Indian peoples of Central America in the 16th century, it wasn't simply a clash of material and political interests, it was a collision of vastly differing paradigms. The Spanish believed they understood the natives, which they did not, and the natives struggled to come to terms with the mentality of the Spanish, which they failed to do. The result was horrific, as history testifies. This clash of paradigms led to the destruction of an entire indigenous civilization and made a mockery of any Spanish pretense to civility and religious enlightenment. The indigenous peoples and the Spanish each had a set of agreements about the world, only these two worlds of agreement were totally alien to one another. The result, of course was butchery and cultural genocide. Once the Spanish had completed their military conquest, their next task was to destroy indigenous culture. To this end, their major weapons became Catholic indoctrination, imposed re-education, reducing the natives to virtual slave-status and outright suppression of indigenous values and world-view. Christianity was first imposed by force, and once the demoralization of the Indians was well advanced they began their own mass conversion to Christianity. It was not the conversion of a powerful people, it was the conversion of a defeated, confused, demoralized people. This mass conversion was triggered by the appearance of the Virgin Mary to Juan Diego near Mexico City in 1531. She became known as Our Lady of Guadalupe. With this, the Spanish conquest of Mexico was effectively accomplished.

The clash of paradigms between the Spaniards and natives of Mexico changed the agreements which indigenous people had about themselves. These new agreements were overwhelmingly negative. Consequently, the self-esteem of native people took a serious beating. They came to understand themselves as inferior, weak, defeated and condemned to poverty and servitude. Those natives who have broken this terrible self-image and regained their personal power are those who have assumed responsibility for their negative agreements about themselves and changed them. To accomplish this is not easy. It is an enormous task to rebuild a demolished self-esteem and a true act of power.

The world of agreement is also more than simply psychological and cultural. Scientific understanding is also a matter of agreement. A rodent knows that if it walks off of a cliff it will fall. We could say that it knows this but does not understand it. The difference between rodents and humans is that we not only know about gravity, but we have an explanation for it, which the rodent does not. We call our explanation scientific because many people over a long period of time have come up which theories to explain the phenomenon of things falling and then tested their theories both empirically and logically. Many theories were disgarded when they did not stand up to scrutiny. The current theory of gravity has, up to this point, stood up to scrutiny. Therefore we say that our understanding of gravity is scientifically based. For practical, immediate purposes it really doesn't give us any edge over a rodent, except insofar as we can create technologies that allow us to do things that a rodent cannot, such as send a spacecraft to the moon. Does this mean that our understanding of gravity is complete? Not at all. Our current understanding is sufficient to get a man on the moon, but this in no way proves that we understand gravity in its entirety. In fact, what we know about gravity may be just the tip of the iceberg. And, no matter how far we advance in science, we will never be able to prove that our understanding of any phenomenon is final. Why? Because our understanding is strictly circumscribed by the limits to thought imposed by the intellect. As extraordinary as the intellect is, it is a limited power confronting that which is limitless.

Our collective agreements about the universe and its contents are all rooted in the original sense-data which are presented in consciousness. These sense-data refer to something, but it must be clearly understood that they are not the thing to which they refer. The exact nature what they refer to is unclear and our knowledge of what they indicate is at best an interpretation backed up by continued investigation and scientific findings. Since sense-data are neither the thing they refer to nor the consciousness within which they are presented, there is serious doubt as to exactly what sense-data are. Are they real or are they unreal? Some schools of philosophy argue they are unreal, others argue they are real, and still others contend that they are both real and unreal or, conversely, neither real nor unreal. Whatever the truth is, there is no doubt that sense-data - whether real or unreal -- are vitally important, because without them there can be no life as we know it. Without them waking up in the morning would be impossible since there would be nothing to wake up to.

At another level, our collective agreements about the universe are themselves interpretations of sense-data presented in consciousness. Said differently, my understanding of collective agreements is an interpretation of sense-data presented in consciousness, i.e., my consciousness. Words I have read, conversations I have heard, images I have seen in pictures, etc. -- all presented as sense-data -- create the impression that there are collective agreements about the external world and its contents. But this belief about collective agreements is my agreement that it is so. It seems such an obvious fact that I assume it to be true. But is it? Since my knowledge of collective agreements is rooted in sense-data that are themselves perhaps real or unreal or both real and unreal, I am left with an existential doubt about the reality or nature of collective agreements. And these agreements are not limited to mundane things such as bus schedules and elections, they also include collective judgments about the Divine and what the Divine decrees or about science and what science decrees. All perceptions of multiplicity and all manifestations of polarity (hot-cold, up-down, etc) are held within a single unit called awareness or the Self. Everything experienced turns upon this unit. In the absence of awareness, such as in deep sleep, there are no sense data and no objects. When wakefulness returns, so does multiplicity. But awareness can continue without multiplicity (as in transcendence during deep meditation) whereas multiplicity cannot continue without awareness (as in a coma or while under anaesthesia). So just as a certain tentativeness is appropriate in dealing with our perceptions and beliefs pertaining to the external world, so a certain tentativeness is justified in how we relate to our convictions about collective agreements.

During the 1930's a demagogue created a collective agreement in Germany that the Jews were the cause Germany's troubles. Millions of otherwise intelligent Germans believed that this insane idea was true and the result was genocide. Recently, in Rwanda, the same type of collective agreement was created, only this time it was the Hutu people who believed that the Tutsis were the source of their suffering. Again, the result was genocide. For human beings true objectivity is existentially impossible. Whatever we think or see is automatically coloured by our moods, biases and mental/emotional processes. For this reason, tentativeness is our best safeguard against excess and madness. Of course, dogmatic men of action hate to read material such as this, since dogmatists like to believe that they are fully justified in committing whatever atrocities or stupidities their dogmas condone. The dogmatic mentality has no interest in the truth and will sacrifice anyone for power, material gain or simply for the need to assert that its ideology (religious, political, etc) is the right one, the only one and the one to which all other minds must kneel.

Responsibility and Accountability

Definitions:

Responsibility is a term that applies to anyone who is in charge of an endeavor or to whom a duty has been delegated. (example: She is responsible for getting everyone out of the building in the event of a fire).

In the above example the woman has been assigned responsibility for getting people out of a building in case of a fire. Whether the woman will or will not assume her responsibility is another matter. To be truly responsible is to assume it. A higher level of responsibility is one we assume without having someone else assign it to us, such as assuming responsibility for our own lives, for always speaking the truth, for taking out the garbage without waiting to be asked, etc. Most people, when given a responsibility are not truly responsible. The may drop their responsibility if they think it is convenient or if they find the responsibility too challenging or if they meet an obstacle. To be truly responsible means not to quit until the goal is achieved or the task is accomplished. It also means to complete the task or reach the goal at 100%. It means to be impeccable rather than sloppy, incomplete or doing just enough to avoid blame. To be truly responsible is to be a spiritual warrior. Quitters and avoiders are, in comparison, cowards and untrustworthy. No one wins with a quitter, but the quitter is the biggest loser of all.

There is a story about Socrates which demonstrates true responsibility. Socrates was the father of Western philosophy who spent most of his time engaged in dialogues with the young men of Athens. As a citizen of Athens he was expected to defend the city in case of war. However, as an old man he could have avoided going to war, pleading weakness and frailty. A fellow citizen witnessed the elderly Socrates voluntarily marching into battle with the Athenian army. The witness was impressed to observe Socrates walking vigorously all day, carrying his own weapons, never complaining or appearing tired, totally alert, constantly looking from left to right in case of a surprise attack, energetic, steady, showing no sign of fear, ready to fight, and setting a powerful example for the younger soldiers. Socrates was not simply a talker, he was a true warrior and exemplar who never abdicated his responsibility as an Athenian citizen.

Accountability is more directly specific than responsibility, meaning that something has been entrusted to someone who will be called to account for how that trust has been carried out (example: She was directly accountable to the department head for the funds that had been allocated to her group).

To be accountable implies that we have committed ourselves to get a specific task or job done. This commitment means a promise to another person (e.g., a manager) to produce an agreed upon result. Accountability is essential in any organization or group project, because the success of the endeavor depends upon each member fulfilling his or her task at 100%. For example, if ten people are working on a common project and nine of those people do their job at 100%, while the tenth does his job at only 50%, a breakdown will occur with the tenth person and the whole project will suffer. This is the meaning of the expression: a chain is only as strong as its weakest link.

Only those who are truly responsible will be truly accountable. Such people put their word ahead of their personal comfort or convenience. They do not quit until the goal is done or the task completed. Those who honor their word as their life achieve greatness, while who do not live mediocre lives.

The Healing Breath

The World Health Organization has declared that by 2020 anxiety will be second only to heart disease as the principal cause of health-related deaths on the planet. Many people turn to alcohol, marijuana or prescription drugs to deal with anxiety, but all of these options carry serious negative side-effects. Surely, there must be a healthy way to deal with anxiety. Yes, there is. And it's simple, cheap and effective. Nor do we need to leave our home buy it. It's free, it's here, it's now. It's the breath.

Connected breathing has been around since the 1970's. It goes under a variety of names, including Rebirthing, Holotrophic Breath and Transformational Breath, to name a few. Connected breathing does not belong to any specific tradition, although some say it is a form of Kriya Yoga. For our purposes we will simply call it, The Healing Breath.

Negative experiences can trigger powerful reactions in our bodies. The birth experience, for instance, can be traumatic. A child's first day of school can be positively frightening. Being attacked by bullies, being sexually abused, being deserted, being fired, plus accidents, divorces, bankruptcies, civil wars, etc, are all sources of trauma.

Powerful emotions evoked by negative events are often repressed in order to be able to deal with the situation at hand. When we feel threatened we temporarily stop our breath in order to avoid the feeling of fear in our body. This strategy may appear to work in the short term, but there are long term negative consequences. Emotions are energy and when we suppress our feelings, that energy gets stuck in our bodies. The lower belly, the solar plexus, the heart area and the throat are the principle locations of repressed emotions. Generally, the belly houses our fear, the plexus our anger, the chest our sadness and the throat our frustration at our inability to communicate what we truly want and need to express.

When we begin to breathe 'into' these primal locations, the emotional energies that are blocked start to discharge. As these energies begin to move, we feel the feelings that we have been repressing. We call this process 'integration' because repressed emotions are being felt and accepted, no longer denied. We don't need to get rid of emotions, because emotions themselves are never the problem. It's their repression that is the problem. At first The Healing Breath process can be uncomfortable, especially if suppressing our feelings has become a life-long habit. However, after some initial support from someone trained in this form of breath-work we acclimatize naturally and become comfortable with our emotional body. Feelings come, are felt and then disappear. People who are spontaneous, expressive and 'alive' are OK with the entire range of their emotions. Their emotions are not 'stuck' in the body. Repressed feelings create a toxic environment that can turn into disease, as well as chronic anxiety, burn-out, depression, withdrawal, addictions, anti-social behavior and suicide.

Self-Enquiry: In the words of Ramana Maharshi

"What does it matter if ever so many thoughts arise? At the very moment that each thought rises, if one vigilantly enquires 'To whom did this appear?' it will be known 'To me'. If one then enquires 'Who am I?' the mind will turn back to its source and the thought that had arisen will also subside. By repeatedly practising in this way, the mind will increasingly acquire the power to abide at its source. When the mind, which is subtle, is externalised via the brain and the sense organs, names and forms, which are material, appear. When it abides in the Heart, names and forms disappear. Keeping the mind in the Heart, not allowing it to go out, is called 'turning towards the Self' (ahamukham) or 'facing inwards'. Allowing it to go out from the Heart is termed 'facing outwards' (bahirmukham). When the mind abides in the Heart in this way, the 'I', the root of all thoughts, vanishes. Having vanished, the ever-existing Self alone will shine. The state where not even the slightest trace of the thought 'I' remains is alone swarupa (one's true nature; the Self)."

"The state of Atmanishta (being fixed in the Self), devoid of the individual feeling of 'I', is the supreme state. In this state there is no room for thinking of objects, nor for this feeling of individual being. There is no doubt of any kind in this natural state of being-consciousness-bliss (sat-chit-ananda)."

"Meditation is, truly speaking, Atmanishta (to be fixed as the Self). But when thoughts cross the mind and an effort is made to eliminate them, the effort is usually termed meditation. Atmanishta is your real nature. Remain as you are. That is the aim."

Ramana Maharshi (1879 - 1950)

God as Source

I call God 'Source'. What do I mean by this? I mean that God is Source of 'whatever is'. I do not try to define 'whatever is', thus I do not try to define God. God is whatever is the Source of 'whatever is', That I worship. That I call on. Source is That to which I turn.

Source is that 'whatever' from which I have come and to which I will return. Source is that 'whatever' in which I move and breathe while living. Source is beyond all definition, therefore, I reject any attempt to define Source or to define my relationship to Source. I reject any theology that attempts to imprision God or any science that tries to argue God is not. God is Source. Source is That. Leave it at that.

Consciousness, Consciousness Of, and the Organism

In my essay, 'The Primacy of Consciousness', I argue that whatever world or potential material reality lies beyond its appearance in consciousness is an inferred reality. Both science and common sense assume that this reality does exist. However, the fact that it cannot be proven either through direct experience or through science raises the question, 'What can we be sure of?'. In the essay I argue that we can be sure of our direct experience, whether the content of that experience turns out to be valid or illusory. Direct experience, however unintelligible, is happening, therefore it exists and, by extension, therefore there is existence. Furthermore, this existence is known. Being known, there must be a knowing consciousness, therefore there is consciousness. This consciousness is not itself perceivable but is inferred from the fact of experience. This inference is not based on perception the way, for example, a fire is inferred from the perception of smoke. In other words, it is not a posteriori. Rather, it is an a priori inference based on the inconceivability, in the absence of consciousness, of either experience or knowledge. From this observation, I assert the primacy of consciousness over matter, in that matter may or may not exist, whereas consciousness is certain. Now, the exact nature of consciousness remains to be established. Questions such as: ' Is consciousness a form of energy?', 'Can consciousness exist in the absence of matter?', 'Does consciousness persist after the death of the body?', etc. -- all of these are subjects for further inquiry.

The Observer and the Witness

From the point of view of the observer, behind the phenomenal (the appearance) is the noumenal (the unknowable ground of the appearance). The observer is also a phenomenon in the form of a subtle thought-feeling localized in time and space. Behind the observer is also the noumenal.

From the standpoint of the witnessing Self however, all phenomena including time and space as well as the elusive ‘observer’ are within. The noumenal, although not directly perceived, is also within. The nature of the witnessing self is pure consciousness, pure intelligence.

The analogy of a movie screen to describe the witnessing consciousness is apt (in so far as concerns the superimposition of the appearance on pure consciousness), but is also misleading in that a movie screen is a flat surface, whereas the Self is dimensionless. After a certain stage of self-enquiry there comes the direct intuition or realization that the totality of the world-appearance (including the observer) is contained within and permeated by the Self. The Self is itself unmoving, yet within it is the apprehension of movement. It encompasses and surpasses all time and space, all that is known and unknowable, and the universe is felt to be floating within it, weightless so to speak.

Transformational Breath: An Ancient Wisdom

Totally windless, by itself, the One breathed;
Beyond that, indeed, nothing whatever was.
‘Hymn of Creation’
Rig Veda X.129.2

‘Conscious’ breathing is as old as yoga, which is at least 5000 years. Near the north-west corner of modern India, the Indus River Valley civilisation traces back to at least the third millenium BC. It is probably much older. Archaeological digs at the sites of the ancient cities of Mohenjo-Daro and Harappa reveal a highly evolved civilisation which utilised elaborate drainage systems, dams, centralised storage granaries, three story houses, bathrooms, assembly halls and even colleges. There, soapstone seals used by merchants show the great God Shiva sitting in yoga posture. Shiva is the ‘Lord of yoga’, the Source from which yoga springs. At the heart of yoga practice lies the breath, and for thousands of years yogis have been practising and teaching various forms of breathing exercises known as pranayama or breath control. Prana or ‘vital force’ circulates in the body, influencing mental and physical health, as well as the quality of our consciousness. If the circulation of life force is blocked due to stress or injury, illness may result. If our life force is weak, we lose our ability to concentrate. We feel fatigued and lack energy. If it is disturbed, our minds and emotions become disturbed. Breath is the connecting link between the vital force and the body-mind. If we stop breathing for even a few minutes, the body’s connection with the life force is broken and death results. By using breathing techniques, especially in conjunction with meditation and yoga postures, we gain deep relaxation, inner clarity, emotional stability, better health and greater ability to concentrate.

In modern society, where we spend much of our time sitting hunched over computers, desks or the steering wheels of our cars, most people breathe very poorly. Bad posture, air pollution and constricted, shallow breathing add to the problem. Simply by breathing properly, many of our health problems, including fatigue, nervousness, insomnia, poor circulation, weak concentration, tiredness and depression can be alleviated or even eliminated. Practising even a few minutes of yogic breath two or three times a day will make an enormous difference to our well being.

The beginnings of Rebirthing in the West

The ‘sixties and ‘seventies marked the beginning of the West’s fascination with yoga and its benefits. Many seekers, young and old, travelled to India in search of the inner peace and wisdom offered by the ancient system of yoga. Yogis also came to the West, travelling and sharing their knowledge with millions of people. The Beatles took up the practice of Transcendental Meditation and, almost overnight, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi became world famous. Today, in nearly every town and city of North America and Europe, yoga classes are taught in studios, schools, community centres and health clubs. Many have taken up some form of meditation. The popularity of yoga continues to grow. Yoga is clearly not a passing fad but is here to stay, profoundly influencing the very foundations of Western civilisation in a positive way.

During the early ‘seventies Leonard Orr, an American yogi, began experimenting with a form of kriya (active) breathing which he termed ‘rebirthing’. Leonard had spent much time in India studying with a Himalayan yogi known as Babaji. Inspired by Babaji, Leonard and a group of associates, including Sondra Ray – a widely read author of books on healing and transformation in relationships – developed the rebirthing technique, also known as ‘conscious-connected-breathing’. They found the benefits of this form of conscious breathing extraordinary and the practice began to catch on. Thousands of Canadians, Americans and Europeans put themselves through two hour ‘rebirthing’ sessions and noticed remarkable changes in their lives. Problems that had been plaguing them for years would begin to dissolve or simply disappear. Negative patterns of self-sabotage would begin to unravel and new possibilities for a creative and happier life would open up. Relationships would improve. Well being would replace ill health. Feelings of depression, even suicidal thoughts, would give way to a more positive, affirmative view of life. Many found the burden of living transforming into the joy of living. The ‘rebirthing’ method, loosely defined as a form of kriya (action) yoga (to unite), became widely practised in many countries.

How it works

The rebirthing process is easy to learn and can be practised almost anywhere. What is required is a quiet room, a trained breathing ‘coach’ and about two undisturbed hours. The client reclines in a comfortable position, usually on a couch or mat, and covered with a blanket. The breathing coach sits beside the client, providing a ‘safe space’ and guidance when needed. Basically, the client practices about 60 minutes of ‘conscious-connected-breathing’ and surrenders into a process that unfolds naturally from within. The responsibility of the coach is to ensure that the client is breathing correctly and feels safe and secure while going through the rebirthing process. An experienced breath-worker will also be able to provide valuable feedback to the client during and after the session. But, mainly, the coach simply observes the process and allows the client to have his or her own experience.

This ‘transformational breath’ session, when practised correctly, follows a simple pattern. The client is resting comfortably with the eyes closed and begins the ‘conscious-connected-breathing’ cycle. The breath-worker is watching the process and corrects the client’s breathing as needed. If the breathing becomes irregular or forced the coach will remind his client to breathe correctly, to relax, to connect the breaths, etc. If the client forgets to breathe or begins to fall asleep, the coach will encourage him or her to remain conscious, to stay present, to stay with the breath. The rebirther will ask him what he is thinking about in order to identify the underlying belief that is pushing him into unconsciousness. If the client cannot see the background thought, the rebirther will remain aware that some belief is beginning to manifest and track it down during the course of the session. When the breathing cycle is complete, he will give his client an appropriate affirmation in order to clarify and transform this core, unconscious belief. The work or action (kriya) of rebirthing, however, is done entirely by the client, with the rebirther’s active support.

At the beginning of the session, the client will be primarily outwardly focussed, with his attention on the room, the coach, his own body, noises, odours, etc., basically anything within his field of perception. As the conscious breathing cycle progresses, his attention will become progressively inwardly directed, naturally and without effort. His conscious mind will become quieter and he will become increasingly aware of what he is experiencing within his body and mind. Correspondingly, awareness of his external environment will diminish.

As the conscious mind becomes quieter and more surrendered to the present moment, repressed psychic matter (traumas, stresses, buried emotions, old hurts and wounds, etc) will begin to resurface and bubble up to consciousness. The transformational breathing process is the vehicle that delivers these buried experiences to the conscious mind for release. There is nothing mystical about the subconscious and the repressed psychic matter that is stored within it. The subconscious is buried in the nervous system and is a storehouse of memories (both painful and pleasant) not immediately accessible to the conscious mind. The energy of the breathing process begins to drive these memories up to the surface. Concurrently, the suppressed energy associated with those memories gets released from the nervous system and manifests as emotions, sensations and desires. In other words, conscious breathing is purification. Because the mind is quiet and enjoying the heightened sense of peace and security arising from its growing awareness of Being, it is able to ‘be with’ the suppressed material coming to the surface as an observer rather than an active participant. Feelings of fear or anger may come up, but the mind is functioning as a witness to those feelings and so the purification process goes smoothly and easily. The deep relaxation nurtured by the breath shields the client, so that coming into conscious contact with painful memories does not itself become a source of stress. In this context it is important to emphasise the critical role of the breath-worker at this stage of the transformational breath cycle. The presence of a competent coach, who is gently encouraging the process without judgement or fear, enables the client to let go and relax into his unfolding experience.

Most breath-work sessions reach a climax for the client when there is a profound sense of release and of having let go of some old, often forgotten, psychic burden. It is the peak of the session. From this point, the transformational breath cycle continues but becomes less intense. The client’s sense of inner relaxation deepens and his mind will become extremely quiet, often attaining a state of absolute silence while remaining fully alert; in other words, a state of profound restful alertness similar to the silent awareness of deep meditation. This experience is like a reward for work well done. Conscious breathing is not a passive process, but an active one requiring a commitment on the part of both the client and the coach. The client does the work of breathing consciously and continuously, while the coach stays actively and unconditionally present to the client and his process for the duration of the breathing cycle.

Slowly, the client comes back to ordinary consciousness, waking up the body by stretching, opening the eyes, and becoming aware once again of his surroundings. This is a period of ‘positive’ integration for the client. The breath-worker will also provide feedback as required, but the greatest service he has to offer his client is attentive, non-judgmental listening.

Perhaps a résumé of an actual ‘transformational breath’ session will be useful. The following example is more dramatic than usual but clearly demonstrates the potential healing power of the breath.

Duart’s experience:

Monika is a fashion model for a popular woman’s magazine and also features regularly in the catalogues of an upscale clothing chain. She was referred through a mutual friend. When she came to my home for her first session I was impressed by how tall, slender and beautiful she was, while at the same time being simple, straight-forward and down to earth. I liked her immediately.

I explained to Monika how the transformational breath method works and asked her a few questions about her birth, parents, interests and family background. I also asked her what she wanted from her session. Looking me directly in the eyes she calmly said that, although she met many attractive, successful and interesting men who wanted to go out with her, her relationships never lasted for more than one month. She was clear she had a pattern or blockage but could not understand what it was. She said she wanted a genuine, loving, long-term relationship with someone and that is why she had come. Then she reclined on the cot used for breath-work, I covered her with a blanket, and she started her ‘conscious-connected-breathing’ cycle.

Within about fifteen or twenty minutes she was immersed in her inner experience and her breath was flowing deeply, easily and continuously. Up to this point, the process appeared to be going smoothly and uneventfully. Suddenly, however, her whole demeanour changed and the peaceful look on her face altered to one of horror and revulsion. Her body began to contract and turn as if resisting something or someone, and her head was moving from side to side. “No! No! No!” she kept repeating, “What are you doing? Don’t! Leave me alone!” Often, people have a tendency to dramatise their experiences, perhaps out of a need for attention or from a belief that they have to put more into it in order to get a result – a form of ‘struggle pattern’. When this happens, I feel the lack of authenticity and remain unmoved. I encourage them to continue the breathing cycle and allow the experience to unfold, knowing that if they stay with the process something real will begin to occur. Their drama simply delays the letting go, which always follows when the conscious breathing cycle is practised properly. What Monika was experiencing, however, was genuine – very real – and I felt a cold chill run along my spine. Although her eyes were closed and she was totally focussed on her inner process, she could hear my voice. I asked her, ‘How old are you right now?’ ‘Eight’, she replied. ‘Where are you?’ I asked. She answered, ‘In a big room, like a hallway or basement, in a big building…there is an old man with me.’ At this point, her feelings of revulsion and horror intensified even more and it was clear she was re-experiencing some sort of encounter with an older man that she had found horrific. I asked her a few more questions while she was still in her process and, evidently, she was being fondled or worse by someone in the building where she was living. I allowed her to continue to process this incident, whatever it was, without interference on my part. My role at this point was simply to remain there, continuing to create a ‘safe space’ in which she could process and integrate this event. After another ten or fifteen minutes, the intensity of her experience diminished significantly and she gradually settled into a deeply peaceful state, similar to a profound meditation, and remained in that blissful condition for the remainder of her session.

Afterwards, she sat up and we talked about her experience. She told me that she had no conscious memory of any sexual or other form of abuse as a child. But she remembered that as a child of eight she was living with her mother and father in a relatively poor area of Toronto. Both parents were working and she often spent time alone in the apartment building they inhabited. The caretaker of the building was an older man who would be her guardian when her parents were away. So, her experience during her rebirth fit with the facts of her childhood when she was eight. Did the caretaker abuse her? Did it really happen? We have no way of knowing for sure. I told Monika that whether the incident had truly occurred, or happened with that particular man, was not as important as the actual fact of her experience during her rebirth. She had released something major which was not available to her conscious mind prior to her session. What was important is that she was clearing something obviously affecting the quality of her current life in a negative fashion. Monika agreed and was both surprised and pleased by the clarity and intensity of what had been presented to her conscious mind for release through the breath.

Then, I asked her about her history of short-term relationships with men. ‘Who leaves the relationship first, you or your boyfriend?’, I asked. ‘I am always the one who leaves first.’, she responded. Monika had a clear, very precise pattern of leaving. ‘Do you see the connection?’ She nodded her head, ‘Yes!’ ‘Men are dangerous, right?’, I said. She got it immediately. Her trust in men had been shattered and she was totally afraid of real intimacy. She had made an unconscious decision that trusting a man was as dangerous as putting her hand in a fire. Just as a new relationship would begin to open up and become emotionally intimate, she would bolt like a frightened, wild horse. Beliefs are powerful, especially when they are unconscious, and they will literally draw to us experiences that will confirm them as true. Unconscious beliefs become self-fulfilling prophecies. Monika’s hidden conviction that men are dangerous became a self-fulfilling prophecy that blocked her from experiencing intimacy with a male, resulting in one break-up after another. Once she became conscious that she had this belief, it lost its power over her. She no longer had to blindly act out her impulse to ‘bolt’ whenever a man got too close. She could breathe and feel whatever feelings were arising as she became intimate with someone. She could now choose to stay and ‘experience her experience’ rather than simply act out the blind impulse to run. She could use affirmations, such as ‘I, Monika, can now trust men’ and ‘Men are safe for me to be with’ to help neutralise her belief that men are dangerous. She could also communicate her fear to the object of her fear, men, and thereby overcome her pattern of escaping. Getting conscious of a problem is half way to resolving it. It is ignorance of our unconscious mechanisms that keep us stuck repeating them endlessly.

Monika came for a few more breathing sessions and continued to integrate her initial experience. About eight months later I happened to bump into her at a shopping mall and we talked. She told me that she had been in a new relationship for several months and it was going well. For the first time she was enjoying a relationship lasting more than a few weeks. She also said that this man was different from the type of men she had been dating before. This relationship was based less on external appearances and symbols of success and more on the inner qualities and character of the person she was with. She told me she was very happy with him. I never saw Monika again but I am sure that, whatever the outcome of that particular relationship, something fundamental had healed within her, something lasting.

Birth trauma

People often assume that breath-work is principally about pregnancy and the birth experience. In fact, among the core group of people working with Leonard Orr, founder of the ‘rebirthing’ movement, memories of their own birth experiences came up so frequently and powerfully that the connected breathing cycle became associated with healing trauma associated with birth itself. While it is true that many people engaged in breath-work have experiences that appear to relate directly to the kind of birth they underwent, these do not represent the majority of memories which arise during their sessions. For this reason, ‘rebirthing’ is more accurately termed ‘conscious-connected- breathing’, ‘transformational breath’ or simply ‘breath-work’, which avoids limiting the practice to any single aspect of the total human experience. But the term ‘rebirthing’ is also appropriate in the sense that this form of kriya (work) allows practitioners to enjoy a profound renewal, a sense of being ‘born again’, in their lives. Thus, the term ‘rebirthing’ is correct, but in a spiritual rather than literal sense. This said, birth memories do resurface as a significant aspect of the overall transformational breath experience. When we consider that a new-born is already a fairly developed ‘little’ person when he or she makes that intense and difficult passage through the birth canal, it is reasonable to presume that aspects of this primal experience will remain buried in the unconscious. The connected breathing cycle often brings up ‘chunks’ of this material during rebirthing sessions. Clearing this repressed matter from the subconscious is valuable, since what is buried there forms an important part of the screen or filter through which we perceive our world. We all have ways of perceiving and being that we can’t account for, but which infl uence our behaviour for good or ill, affecting our health, career, finances and relationships either positively or negatively. For example, if our birth was very painful or a great struggle, then it is entirely likely that we will have entered this world with the unconscious decision that life itself is a struggle or a painful process.

Based on thousands of experiences of the birth process during rebirthing sessions, breath-workers have come up with a summary of basic, unconscious patterns that repeatedly accompany different types of birth, such as caesarean,breech, etc. Some of these patterns have been identified as follows:

Short labour: a pattern of feeling rushed and nervous, impatient, always hurrying.

Long labour: a pattern of feeling ‘held back’ in life, always facing a ‘wall of resistance’.

Premature birth: a pattern of feeling small, insignificant, vulnerable, immature.

Late birth: a pattern of being late, keeping others waiting, resistance to being on time.

Caesarean: a pattern of feeling that ‘I can’t do it myself ’ or ‘I always do it wrong’, difficulty completing things.

Incubator: a pattern of feeling separate and alone, afraid of being touched, looking out at the world from behind glass.

Transverse Lie: a pattern of not knowing ‘which way to go’, of being misdirected, misguided, of having things ‘twisted’.

Induced: a pattern of feeling helpless, of needing to be ‘induced’ to take action, difficulty in starting projects.

Breech: a pattern of ‘fighting to get out’ of situations and relationships, feeling pulled and forced by others, feeling life is a struggle.

Forceps: a pattern of feeling that ‘I can’t make it on my own’, fear of being controlled and manipulated.

Cord around neck: a pattern of feeling ‘strangled’ in relationships, fear of being ‘choked’, feelings of ‘suffocation’ in close situations.

Lyse’s experience:

During my six-month Rebirth Training, which I attended in NewYork City in 1985, I suddenly became aware of my own birth trauma. Up to that point, I had personally completed twelve rebirths: six privates and six in a group. I had had strong feelings of rejection coming up during these sessions, as well as a variety of related emotions. When the trainers talked about the importance of the birth trauma, the birth script, thoughts at birth, in fact, the entire birth scenario, I thought they were exaggerating. During my own first twelve rebirths I had not encountered anything remotely resembling the birth trauma. I had felt physical sensations, pain here and there, shaking in my body (i.e., kinaesthetic experience), but I did not see any memory, any image or anything related to my birth.

As the Rebirth Training progressed I began having terrible headaches. I was staying alone at a Holiday Inn in a run-down part of NewYork, feeling nervous and disturbed because my room was next to an ice machine and a crowd of loud, obnoxious people throwing all night parties. I could hear them talking next to my door, banging on the ice machine. I felt afraid and very vulnerable. I thought, ‘What am I doing here alone in a strange city, surrounded by these aggressive strangers? Maybe they’ll break down my door and attack me.’ All of my major fears were activated. I felt unsafe in New York, unsafe on the planet, unsafe in my own body, and at the same time suffered an excruciating headache. I was dizzy, feeling disoriented like someone on drugs or alcohol. I remember walking in Central Park thinking, ‘Did I take drugs? Did I take alcohol? No, I have not been drunk or high for years, I’ve had nothing at all.’ But I felt so drugged, so disoriented, that I had a hard time finding my way around. It was really unpleasant.

One day midway through a Rebirth Training weekend, one of the trainers, Peter Kane commented, ‘If you are having big headaches or feeling dizzy you might be going through chunks of your birth and your delivery may have included the use of forceps.’ His words stunned me because I had been born with the help of forceps! As he spoke I felt an intense anxiety in my solar plexus, along with anguish and fear, and I was convinced that something terrible was about to happen to me. My headache intensified around my temples and I felt a big pressure in my head. He added that many people have migraine headaches due to the use of forceps during birth. At that moment I felt he was talking directly to me, although there were more than 50 people in the room. Intellectually, I found his comments far fetched, but at the same time I had no other explanation for how I was feeling, which was certainly not my normal state. Finally I let go of my resistance to Peter’s message and opened myself to the possibility that it was true.

During the rebirth session that followed, I became crippled, paralysed and totally terrified. The trainers asked me, ‘What’s going on?’ Hardly able to speak I repeated, ‘I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…’ They asked, ‘You can’t what?’ I said, ‘I can’t move…I feel paralysed… I’m blocked here… I’m stuck…’ Their response was, ‘This is just a thought, it’s a memory you’re going through…only a thought…and of course you can. Since what you are going through is related to your birth, you can!’ They started to laugh, which only intensified my upset because I felt they were laughing at me. However, my paralysis cleared up. It disappeared with the words, ‘Of course you can.’ I also could feel the stress releasing from my body and my headache fading away.

After this experience I realised that I had had similar intense headaches whenever I was trapped in a packed elevator or a crowded room. As a child, sometimes my parents and I would get stuck in heavy traffic driving over Montreal’s Champlain Bridge on our way to the country and I would have terrible headaches to the point of vomiting. This feeling of being trapped and stuck in a small space from which I could not escape could have stemmed from being caught in the birth canal, but I could not be certain that there was a direct connection. I did observe, however, that after this particular rebirth session, tight, crowded spaces or traffic jams would no longer give me headaches or anguish. Gone were the pressure in my temples, the nausea and the pain in my head. I began to have confidence in the words of my trainers.

Through rebirthing, I also learned that people born with forceps want support and at the same time are afraid of it. Forceps are painful for the baby, however they support the infant in staying alive, since getting caught too long in the birth canal can cause death. My own subconscious belief that support hurts has also been an issue in my life. I have always assumed that I want support, but my unconscious pattern has been to push support away.

Often, forceps have been used for convenience and efficiency rather than as a life-saving maneuver of last resort. In the 1950’s, with so many baby boomers arriving, doctors often would have to run from one delivery to another. To speed the process they came to rely increasingly on the use forceps and/or anaesthesia. I have also realised that my inexplicable feeling of being drugged during my weekend in New York was related to my mother’s anaesthesia. Babies are definitely affected by anaesthesia, and residues of the drug will stay in the system for a long time after. A baby’s full ‘aliveness’ is suppressed by anaesthesia and it is this memory which was surfacing during my Rebirth Training.

It is also noteworthy that baby boomers are the ones who got into drugs in a big way in the ’sixties and ’seventies. The attitude has been, ‘When it’s too intense, we take some drugs and anaesthetise ourselves. Whether we feel intense joy or intense pain, we anaesthetise ourselves in order to dull the experience.’ The tendency of my generation has been to suppress our aliveness with some substance, rather than to fully live both our pleasures and our pains. From the perspective of rebirth, this is a repetition of the birth process where the mother, and by extension the baby, are drugged with anaesthesia at the point where the mother’s labour becomes difficult and intensely painful.


from 'Awakening The Fire Within: Relationship, Leadership & Self-Esteem', by Lyse LeBeau & Duart Maclean 2005