Reality's Work
Patricia Ryan
Madson
1993
Effort is good fortune. Shoma Morita
Masatake (Shoma) Morita was a very bright,
extremely sensitive but sickly youth prone to insomnia and gastroenteric
disturbances. He was studying psychiatry at the university and was accustomed
to receiving a regular stipend for tuition, medical, and living expenses from
his father. At one point the regular checks stopped arriving. His father had
come upon financial difficulties and was forced to cut off his subsidy. Morita
was extremely upset and felt betrayed by his family.
He decided to get back at his father for this
treatment. To show off his "miserable state" he would cut off all
medication (since he now couldn't afford it) and overexert himself. Or, as the
story goes, he decided to "study himself to death." This would surely
teach his parents the error of their ways in abandoning him financially.
But instead of dying the young Morita thrived. In
fact, his physical symptoms all but disappeared as he applied himself to study
full time. Not only did he appear to "get well" but his efforts
produced spectacular academic marks! His own effort had inadvertently led to
the relief of his suffering and the discovery of what he would come to describe
as "the healing power of work." It laid the foundation for Morita's
understanding of the relation of effort to mental health and became the basis
of Morita Psychotherapy.
Morita Psychotherapy in combination with another
Japanese form, Naikan "Reflection," are the foundations for an
American Buddhist-based practice known as Constructive
Living. Both Morita and Naikan have their origins in Buddhist thought.
The term "Constructive Living" was coined
and developed by the American psychologist and anthropologist, Dr. David K.
Reynolds. Reynolds creation of this paradigm was a result of decades of direct
experience in Japan and a lifetime of study in Eastern thought and practice. He
has written prolifically in English and Japanese on these themes in both the
popular and scholarly presses. He is the acknowledged authority on Japanese
Psychotherapies in the United States. But his creative work in developing the
clear language of the Constructive Living model is perhaps his most valuable
contribution. By taking the essential teachings of the Zen inspired Morita model and the Jodo Shinshu inspired Naikan model, Reynolds has developed a simple
prescription for living. The language is straightforward and secular. Its
advice easy to understand and humbling to practice.
1. Pay attention to reality.
2. Notice what you are receiving and what you are
giving.
3. Know your purpose.
4. Accept your feelings.
5. Do what needs to be done.
Pay attention to reality.
I begin by noticing reality, things as they are.
This is the practical exercise of paying attention. I notice that the screen of
my computer is blue. The letters are pink. There is a hum from the printer and
the computer itself. This hum is the sound of this machine working to support
my efforts now. Attention for me now includes noticing the time, 9:35 a.m., as
well as my thoughts (currently doubting if this paragraph could possibly be of
use to anyone--and while doubting, continuing to type). Remembering Natalie
Goldberg's wise advice to writers: "keep your hands moving".
Notice what you are receiving and what you
are giving.
The second principle informs my attention. It
creates a particular lens through which I look. I am asked to notice what
supports me, what I am receiving in this moment or have been receiving at other
points in time. This lens cultivates the notion of interdependence, of noticing
all the efforts that sustain me. Now I am receiving light from the sun, light
from a desk lamp (which I observe is being used unnecessarily and so I turn it
off). I am receiving help from the computer which records my thoughts, allows
me to rearrange sentences, checks my spelling and finally permits me to make a
copy to send to my editor. The printer receives this information and creates
pieces of paper which hold these words and permit their passage to you the
reader. In literally hundreds of thousands of specific ways I am being
supported at this very moment. The clock functions--ticking--giving me
information about time
Know your purpose.
Observing reality, noting all I am receiving, my
purpose emerges. As I write this now, I reflect on that purpose. I have an
immediate purpose: to write for one hour this morning. To this end I "keep
my hands moving." My purpose in writing is to spread information about
Constructive Living in the hope that this practical advice may serve to relieve
unnecessary suffering. This purpose seems to spring from an inner sense or
desire I have to give something back to the world.
Accept your feelings.
So, knowing my purpose, I accept my feelings. Right
now I am feeling antsy, wanting to get out of the house, wanting to jump up and
make a cup of tea, wanting to be doing something physical other than sitting
here with my hands moving over the keys. I am feeling insecure about this
essay, doubting the form I am using now to write these personal immediate
illustrations of how I use Constructive Living. There is no need to
"fix" these feelings. I do not need to gain confidence as a writer in
order to write. I do not "need" to jump up and make a cup of tea
(although sometimes that is exactly what does need doing). I don't need to do
anything at all with these sensations. I feel them, of course. They are my
feelings. I accept them as part of me now. I do need to write, however.
Do what needs to be done.
And so I act. Now, this means the action of
writing. I sit at the computer. I keep my hands moving. Writing happens;
through me. For me this is right
livelihood: Doing what needs to be done. "What needs to be done"
and "What I want to do" may coincide. However, my personal desires
are not driving the inquiry. My personal needs are a subset of what needs to be
done overall. Sometimes "my" needs lead, sometimes they follow. In
reality there is no distinction. I return my attention again and again to reality
to learn what needs to be done. And then I do it. In most cases "what
needs to be done" is crystal clear, right in front of me. It is simply
that I am not yet doing it. Constructive Living reminds me that I do not need
to "get motivated," "gain confidence," "get psyched,"
or "get ready." I do need
to act. It is in the doing itself that meaning is often revealed.
Both right livelihood and Constructive Living imply
a principled standard. Everything we do has a consequence. No matter how small,
there is no action that does not impact others in very practical ways. In
Constructive Living the lens of Naikan (noticing what I receive and give) helps
to replace the customary ego-centered perspective with a broader more holistic
view. This may discourage self-interest as the sole motivating factor. What
needs to be done is never an abstraction, never theoretical. It is always
specific, concrete. My awareness of interdependence can clarify and inform my
actions. What needs to be done is always a more inclusive question than simply
what I need to do now.
Constructive Living would view the question of
right livelihood from the vantage point of purpose. Right livelihood occurs
when work is purposeful. So if my purpose in life is "to benefit others
and not to injure" then anything and everything I do which serves that end
can be considered as right livelihood. My work as a Drama teacher, my work on
neighborhood committees, sweeping the street, volunteer work, making lunches
for my husband, composing this article, washing dishes--indeed, whatever
reality brings me that my mind tells me needs to be done qualifies.
If I accept that right livelihood is "doing
what needs to be done," then the question arises: "How do I know what
is right for me to be doing?" This question assumes that there may be some
work that is not> right for me to
be doing. Further, it assumes that there may be some particular work that is right for me.
Reynolds has a quotation neatly typed and posted
near the computer in his home office in Coos Bay, Oregon. It reads: "There
is Reality's work that only you can do." If you ponder this for a few
moments, it will be clear that this phrase contains at least two perspectives.
From one perspective, everything I do derives from and returns to Reality. It's
inescapable. The other perspective implies "specialness." Only I can
do certain jobs. Another way of putting this is that there are some jobs, some
kinds of jobs, which seem uniquely suited to my aptitude, abilities, and
interests. How do I find them?
Constructive Living suggests two strategies: 1)
Examine your purpose(s) and 2) Pay attention to what Reality has placed in
front of you.
The question of purpose is best studied in the
clear light of Naikan reflection. To practice Naikan means to examine the self
in relation to others by asking three questions: What did I receive from them?
What did I return to them? What trouble and bother did I cause them? I begin
the inquiry by recalling my earliest memories of my mother and father. As I
sincerely reflect on these questions, I begin to discover the details of the
thousands of meals that I was fed, the specific clothing bought for me, the
rides I was given, the lessons, the times my mother sat by my bedside when I
was sick. The specific answers to these questions provide me with a ledger.
Naikan examination shows me that, even by my own standards, I have been
receiving more than I have given back to others. These findings often bring
about a personal realization of my debt to the world. I cannot find right
livelihood by thinking only of myself.
The person in search of his purpose who is asking
the question, "What would I really like to do?" isn't yet asking the
instructive question. Starting with such a feeling based question is missing
the mark. The question implies a loop between the questioner, the specific job,
and that job's "ability" to please the doer. Further, it appears to
promise that if I get the "right job," it will make me happy and I
will after that be doing "work that I like." While this may appear
reasonable, it makes my "happiness" the measure of my success.
Realistically, I know that I cannot "be
happy" all the time. My feelings come and go, changing often like the
weather. If I go in search of work that "excites me" I am likely to
be disappointed at least some of the time. Even the most stimulating work
contains tasks that must be done whatever my motivation. Reality doesn't bring
work that is always pleasant to do. While it is unrealistic to seek work that
will always make me happy, it is possible to seek and find work that
consistently supports some purpose of mine.
For example, my purpose may be to make the world a
more beautiful place. To that end, I may choose any number of jobs that focus
my time and talents on creating aesthetic environments. I can serve that
purpose, not only when I go to work as a graphic designer, but also in the way
I set the breakfast table for my children. I can serve that purpose by picking
up trash in the park or in my neighborhood. I may serve that purpose as well,
when I refrain from rough language or gossip. Or my purpose may be to help
relieve unnecessary suffering in the world. To that end, my choice to refrain
from an unkind word to a colleague forwards that purpose no less than my job as
a nurse or social worker. So the answer to the question of purpose precedes and
informs all that follows in the search for my true work.
When Morita saw a patient who complained about his
job, wishing to quit, he had a stock response. Before counseling or allowing
the patient to quit Morita asked him to examine his purpose. If, indeed, his
purpose could not be served in this particular job then that was considered a
sufficient reason to change. If it was possible to serve his purpose within the
current job setting then Morita would insist the client remain in the job and
apply himself with greater attention and diligence. Morita saw that
satisfaction in work came not so much from finding the "perfect job,"
but rather from "doing the job in front of you perfectly"--that is,
with full attention.
As I grow to appreciate all that I have been given
in my life a natural desire to return something emerges. Out of this desire
comes my purpose and from this my work. It is clear also that right livelihood
comes both from my own purpose and from Reality's purpose, achieved through my
hands.
Reprinted from MINDFULNESS AND MEANINGFUL WORK, Parallax
Press, 1994, edited by Claude Whitmyyer
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