pixel

Non-Habitual Living and Being

Non-Habitual Living and Being

Non-Habitual Living and Being — The way we view our lives, and ‘reality’ is not true. In fact, it’s simply an unconscious habit. Learn ways to recognize habitual thinking and behaving, and then, learn how to change it.

smartmockups buddha480sq p 1

Looking for more on this topic?

Check out my book,
Half Asleep in the Bud­dha Hall.


My “East­ern” book takes you by the hand and helps you to find peace of mind. 

Half Asleep in the Bud­dha Hall is a Zen-based guide to liv­ing life ful­ly and deeply.

(Here’s a direct Ama­zon link)

Pur­chase dig­i­tal ver­sions (Apple, Nook, Kobo, etc.) from this page


For most of us, this is going to seem a strange top­ic, as we assume that habits are some­how just there, as opposed to some­thing we active­ly engage in / with (and cling to.)

When we con­sid­er the word habit, we think of things like exces­sive drink­ing, smok­ing, or oth­er activ­i­ties that seem to get us into trouble.

A bet­ter way to define a habit is:

The rep­e­ti­tion of an often uncon­scious behav­ior which was cre­at­ed through repeat­ed practice.

Here comes the weird piece.

The biggest and most profound habit that we have is how we view, understand, and live life.

Although we’ve talked about this before, we’ve real­ly nev­er looked at it from this per­spec­tive. Let me put it this way:

The way you view your world is not true; it’s sim­ply your most deeply ingrained habit.

The process of pri­ma­ry habit cre­ation is called social­iza­tion. Our par­ents, our rel­a­tives, and our tribes have a lot invest­ed in get­ting us to mind­less­ly repeat their view of the world.

On a much more pro­found lev­el, social­iza­tion pro­vides us with the tools and resources we need—not only to fit in but to be able to live at all. 

I really need to repeat this.

These sto­ries aren’t true—they’re sim­ply habit­u­al expres­sions of how we believe the world works.

Here’s another odd piece about this habit we call life.

image
Pho­to by shuriruu

This pri­ma­ry social­iza­tion might also be thought of as a way to make us nor­mal.

It’s as if there is some invis­i­ble stan­dard that every­one is try­ing to live up to, and the odd piece is that this invis­i­ble stan­dard is pret­ty bor­ing.

  • Nor­mal just sits there.
  • Nor­mal does­n’t rock the boat.
  • Nor­mal does­n’t make waves.
  • Nor­mal fits in, or at least tries to.

And this normality is so ingrained, so habitual, that we don’t even notice we are playing this game.

OSHO wrote a book called “The Book of Secrets.” It describes OSHO’s take on Tantra.

Accord­ing to OSHO, the main Tantric the­o­ry has to do with using the body, ful­ly and com­plete­ly, to wake up. There are 100 plus tech­niques that can be used to help us to see what’s real­ly going on, as we free our­selves from our habit­u­al view of life.

I want to pro­vide you with a cou­ple of rea­son­ably long quotes, just to give your per­spec­tive on how OSHO saw nor­mal.

And what is nor­mal? What is nor­mal­cy? Just the aver­age. If the aver­age man him­self is not nor­mal, then being nor­mal means noth­ing. It sim­ply means you are adjust­ed to the crowd. So West­ern psy­chol­o­gy is doing only one thing: when­ev­er some­one is mal­ad­just­ed, West­ern meth­ods make that man again adjust­ed to the crowd. The crowd is not ques­tioned at all; whether the crowd itself is okay is not the ques­tion.
pg. 221

OSHO sug­gests that the East­ern approach comes at this from a com­plete­ly dif­fer­ent per­spec­tive.

In order to under­stand this, you have to “get” that, in the West, the mind is seen as an end­point — that noth­ing exists beyond the mind. 

It is assumed that men­tal ill­ness actu­al­ly exists; that it is an ill­ness of this “thing” called the mind. The role of the “mind doc­tor” is to fix the bro­ken part; this is under­stood as the only way to bring the per­son back to normal.

In the East, the mind is the illness.

For Tantra, man him­self is the dis­ease. It is not that your mind is disturbed—rather, your mind is the dis­tur­bance. It is not that you are tense with­in, but rather you are the ten­sion …if the mind itself is the ill­ness, than this ill­ness can­not be treat­ed. It can be tran­scend­ed, but it can­not be treat­ed.”
p. 261

In the East, there is some­thing that lies beyond the mind. Through focus, through pres­ence, through med­i­ta­tion, one can find a cer­tain still­ness. This still­ness tran­scends the mind. In fact, mind is thought of as a hin­drance.

The mind is described as “monkey mind”

monkey

It flits from one thing to anoth­er, pick­ing some­thing up and get­ting dis­tract­ed, flit­ting to some­thing new, get­ting dis­tract­ed, and on and on. There is noth­ing valu­able in this.

This is the nature of mind. It can’t be sup­pressed. But it can be exam­ined, and what you find are … deeply ingrained habits.


Fritz Perls said,

Go out of your mind and come to your senses.”

Transcendence has everything to do with moving beyond normalcy.

OSHO, again:

The East­ern effort is for how to tran­scend the mind, because for us there are no men­tal dis­eases, remem­ber. For us there are no men­tal diseases—rather, the mind is the dis­ease. For West­ern psy­chol­o­gy, the mind is not the dis­ease. The mind is you, it is not the dis­ease. The mind can be healthy, and the mind can be ill.…
Unless you go beyond mind, you can nev­er be healthy. You can be ill and adjust­ed or you can be ill and mal­ad­just­ed, but you can nev­er be healthy. So the nor­mal man is not real­ly healthy. He is just with­in the bound­aries, he is ill with­in the bound­aries. The abnor­mal per­son is one who has gone beyond the bound­aries; and the dif­fer­ence between the two is only of degrees—of quan­ti­ty not qual­i­ty.
p. 121


Good little sheep, fitting in.

We might say that the goal in the West is to herd peo­ple back into the fold of being nor­mal, pre­dictable, non-sen­su­al, selec­tive­ly sex­u­al, and with­out an opin­ion of his or her own.

That last part, about not hav­ing an opin­ion, may feel unre­al. You may want to say, “Of course I have an opin­ion, and man am I ever going to give it to you!”

But real­ly, there’s a lot of truth to the expres­sion, “There’s noth­ing new under the sun.” What you believe is your opin­ion is noth­ing more than some­thing you’ve heard and choose to par­rot as if its “true.”.

I sus­pect you can remem­ber a time when you expressed an opin­ion in a group of peo­ple who disagreed—and how, almost imme­di­ate­ly, great anx­i­ety arose in you. 

You felt iso­lat­ed, scared—and you either toughed it out and argued more, or did what­ev­er you had to do to get back into the group’s good graces.

Dif­fi­cult, very dif­fi­cult, to smile, hold to your opin­ion, and not defend.

That anxious feeling is something you should pay attention to.

image 4
Pho­to by shuriruu

Any­time you feel a dis­tur­bance inside—queasiness, tight­ness, imbal­ance, or just a sense that “some­thing is not quite right,” that’s you bump­ing up against your habit­u­al thinking.

Your body says to you, “Some­thing is going on here that you need to
pay atten­tion to.” 

Most­ly, in such sit­u­a­tions, this anx­i­ety is such that we sim­ply want to go away. And the best way to get it to go away is to ignore it by shift­ing into neutral—to become nor­mal again.

In tra­di­tion­al “habit ther­a­py,” there are two ideas that I think hold water. 

The first is that a habit can’t just be stopped. It has to be replaced with a new behav­iour. The sec­ond is that it takes around 25 days for this sol­id, new behav­ior to become a new habit.

This is pret­ty much how peo­ple stop smok­ing, or stop drink­ing, or stop swearing.

And… as any­one who has “over­come” an addic­tive habit can tell you, the old, much deep­er habit it “right there,” wait­ing to leap to the forefront.

So, the new habit has to be imple­ment­ed repeatedly.

It’s an entirely different kettle of fish to break the habit of how we live.

The first step in this process is to believe that some­thing exists beyond mind, beyond habit, and beyond our cur­rent belief.

OSHO calls this transcendence. 

Ken Wilber speaks often and pas­sion­ate­ly for a method that he calls “tran­scend and include.” 

By this he means that we take what we have, stop judg­ing it, accept it as an aspect of our­selves, [that’s the include part], and then move past it in a direc­tion that is, larg­er, more ben­e­fi­cial, and, at the same time, more detached. And yet more indi­vid­u­al­ized. [That’s the tran­scend part.]

One cheap and dirty illustration of this is learning to meditate.

I got my first taste of med­i­ta­tion at Uni­ver­si­ty, back when I was about 18. There was a Tran­scen­den­tal Med­i­ta­tion group that I became a part of.

Now let me tell you, I have a lot of ener­gy in my body, and sit­ting still is noth­ing short of a mir­a­cle for me. I’m not sure how Dar­bel­la sits next to me when I dri­ve. Talk about the end­less wiggle. 

Back then, when I was a kid, there was always some­thing bet­ter to do than just sit­ting there. 

Zazen means “sit­ting still like a moun­tain.” My moun­tain had tremors—earthquakes—and all I want­ed to do was get up, move, do something.

The West is full of doing. Being? Not so much.

Over the last few decades, I’ve been putting much more focus into med­i­ta­tion. And odd­ly, he says with a grin, I’m sit­ting still.

Better put, I’m sitting in the stillness.

sitting costa rica

I’m not sure this is a habit yet, but it’s darn close. And there’s sort of a pyra­mid­ing effect; the still­ness is extend­ing into my non-sit­ting moments. 

I find this to be a good thing.


Tran­scen­dence comes to us when we first allow for the pos­si­bil­i­ty that some­thing exists beyond what we present­ly believe to be so. 

The fun­ny part is, we’re get­ting body cues that this is so, all the time. Aches and pains, queasy feel­ings, that nag­ging sen­sa­tion that there’s some­thing seri­ous­ly wrong with the way things are right now. 

1974 03 19 74p102 05

We’ve been con­di­tioned to ignore these feel­ings. Hell, we’ve been con­di­tioned to ignore our bod­ies entire­ly. Except for a few, social­ly sanc­tioned, accept­able bod­i­ly feelings.

I end­less­ly try to get peo­ple to pay atten­tion to the sig­nals they’re receiv­ing all the time. 

I see tight lit­tle bod­ies, aching minds, bro­ken spir­its. And then I hear, “It’s not as bad as it seems. I’ve just got to do more, tough­en up, and win the lottery.” 

I so des­per­ate­ly want to reach out and give peo­ple a shake. I want to yell, “Pay atten­tion! Your body, your spir­it, is try­ing to tell you some­thing! Please, this time, listen.”

What I’m looking for is a harmony, a dance, between body, mind, and spirit.

Too often we get into focus­ing on one thing to the detri­ment of the oth­ers, and in our cul­ture mind pre­dom­i­nates. And Lordy, are our minds ever messed up. 

We hurt. And then we go on doing the same things, try­ing hard­er, work­ing hard­er, run­ning faster, and falling down, exhausted. 

Our bod­ies and spir­its keep try­ing to get through to us, but it’s hard to lis­ten. We’re so afraid will no longer fit in, that will be judged, that will be reject­ed, that will be blamed, that some­how we’ll die an out­cast.
see: My Hus­band and My Pelvis

Tran­scen­dence comes to us when we real­ize the utter stu­pid­i­ty of this belief. We tran­scend when we under­stand that we are big­ger than this, and are meant for full being. 

We tran­scend when we refuse to suck our­selves down the drain that our soci­ety has created.

Transcendence begins with sitting.

With qui­et­ing. With bring­ing our focus back to where it belongs.

Tran­scen­dence begins, as I lis­ten to myself, accept myself, for­give myself, bless myself.

From this place, I can sim­ply be, and “who I be” becomes how I live and how I enact myself.

I break the habit of being normal.

I dis­cov­er that stand­ing forth as a whole, cen­tered, focused, and clear human being is ulti­mate­ly, what life is real­ly all about.

The worst habit you can have is to live your life as if you have no choice. Con­tin­ue to ignore your­self at your per­il. See with new eyes, and the world and you are trans­formed, tran­scend­ed, and whole.

It’s up to you. What are you wait­ing for?


Scroll to Top