I have had to overcome a potentially crippling handicap that had me doubting my own sanity. It has been a religious dark night of the soul with an all too real physiological origin. It has also been a battle to determine what part of my damaged personality remains capable of worship; who is left inside my cranium that can still extend compassion to all beings, when a single white pill a day is all that keeps me from irrational rages.
The war is not over, but the first battle has at least resulted in a strategic advantage. I am not the same person I was since I sustained brain damage from micro-emboli as a result of bypass surgery some six years ago, and I am reminded of this on an almost daily basis. Anyone who has observed a family member after a stroke will have some familiarity with the apparent personality changes. The helplessness resulting from not being able to be the person my family remembers is crushing.
Who is left, exactly, that keeps trying to express gratitude for graces received? Being of the buddhist persuasion, I will try to express it in terms of the three jewels or treasures; the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha (the historical Buddha, the body of his teachings, and the community of his followers.
The reminder that the self is impermanent, transitory and ephemeral leads me to consider taking refuge in a concentrated meditation. Mindfulness meditation is an example of the dharma, or teaching of the Buddha. The three marks of existence are another example, consisting of impermanence, suffering, and the absence of an unconditioned self. Taking refuge in the Buddha's teachings does not imply a papering over of the issues confronting me. Rather it will be a surrender to a larger community of faith and it's principles, a community that believes in turning toward one's fears and adversaries, and facing them with numbers rather than one solitary self. You start in the present moment where you are right now. The community is the Sangha, a world wide community of all buddhist traditions. And a simple reminder that my worrying about my so called self was an exercise in futility, and that communities of faith the world over provide a refuge for selves buffeted by doubts.
I will not argue or debate the supernatural, or theism, or cosmology, or any other theological topics. I am outlining a psychology of impermanence, and techniques useful in dealing with said impermanence. I understand how tempting religious posts are for those fond of diatribes. I am a sucker for religious satire myself. But I will not respond at all to attacks on what faith can mean to those who experience it. I am interested in how humans can hold on to their compassion while acknowledging anger as an all too prevalent part of our makeup.
I have received kind support from members of a particular buddhist community, and plan on going on retreat with them next year. Prayer is prayer, and buddhist prayer concentrates my attention on the needs at hand. The beads have replaced the books, and the silence has replaced the self-doubt. And my practice has now returned.