Taking the Low Road
I was visiting with a girlfriend who was in turmoil. She found out that her boyfriend had cheated on her repeatedly and she had shown him the door that morning. The back door. She felt so betrayed, she had decided that the back door was good enough for him. Initially, she had felt relief once he was gone, but now, she was struggling with herself.
“You must be really angry,” I said.
“I don’t want to be angry.” Tears streamed down her face. “I know I shouldn’t hold it against him. I should forgive him.”
“Why? This is only Day One,” I said. “Give yourself a break.”
“But I want to be spiritual.”
The consensus opinion among people who are “seeking enlightenment,” is that choosing the high road is spiritual and being on the low road is not. But when you feel angry, betrayed or disappointed, you’re skipping a step when you think you can go straight from A to Z, and ignore what’s in between. Forgiveness is a worthy goal. It can lighten your heart and ease your pain. Eventually it will, but expecting it to show up immediately is not only unrealistic. It’s also counterproductive to releasing what we don’t need any more and finding an open door to rise to the next level.
A friend of mine was on a spiritual retreat, facilitated by a guru who was always happy. Or so he said. He expected everyone else to be happy, too, so if a follower appeared to be sad or angry, he invited them to leave. One day, my friend was hungry and he headed for the kitchen. He paused at the door and watched the guru making himself a sandwich. When the holy man was ready to eat, he opened the refrigerator door to get something to drink. He closed the door, went back to the counter and saw that a dog had jumped up and was eating his sandwich. The happy man looked to the right and looked to the left. When he was sure no one was watching, he kicked the dog.
The first of the four noble truths in Buddhism is that suffering is an inherent part of life. If someone claims to be happy and compassionate all the time, they’re lying to themselves. We live in a world of duality where there is joy and love, but there is also pain and suffering. No one gets away from it. So no matter how hard we try, we’re not always going to be happy or what we call “spiritual.”
What is being spiritual anyway? In my opinion, it isn’t about being on the high road and never wavering. It isn’t about forgiving when you feel resentful or smiling when you’re in a rage. It isn’t about pretending you’re in the light when you’re surrounded by darkness. It’s about being honest and authentic without judgments. It’s about accepting however you are, even when you don’t like it. Just remember that you’re not alone. If you’re feeling something, other people are feeling it, too, and if you can find the courage to admit how you feel, you’ll be encouraging other people to do the same.
It’s uncomfortable to be with your anger, to feel like you’re stumbling around with little control over your thinking. But when you turn away from yourself and repress your real feelings, you get depressed and anxious and often, your upset explodes on someone else. When you block the things that cause you suffering, you also block the love that sustains you. It’s an exercise in going numb. If you’re waiting to feel spiritual enough to start looking for compassion, it might be a long wait. If you’re waiting for your thoughts to be pure and be seen as a paragon of spirituality, you’re in for a rude awakening.
In the words of Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron: Start where you are.
When you feel betrayed or diminished by someone else, the high road is not always available. You have to start where you are. If you give up your quest to be pure and perfect and to accept your true feelings, you can find a way to stop, take a breath, and investigate what you’re really feeling instead of what you want to feel. You can learn to accept yourself in difficult and embarrassing situations, like screaming in your car. Swearing at another driver under your breath. Feeling rageful and depressed. Engaging in a juicy piece of gossip. Wanting someone to feel the same pain that you’re feeling. We all do it in our individual ways but if you accept it for what it is, you can ease your pain by acknowledging the truth about how you feel.
A woman I know has become rigid and frightened as she ages because she refuses to admit to her frailties. She fancies herself to be a teacher of consciousness but during the years I’ve known her, she has always let her anger stop her from being vulnerable. At this point, she has distanced all of her friend and she remains stuck because she hasn’t nurtured her ability to admit to being angry and wanting revenge. She lives in a state of victimhood, it’s always someone else, and her shame keeps her vulnerability hidden. She just doesn’t understand that it isn’t shameful to find yourself on the low road. You have to be aware of it because if you don’t see it, you can’t change it. If you see it, you can find the compassion and strength to breathe and release and inch your way up the ladder and start reaching for the stars.