Cut Off: The Role of Compassion in Social Death ~ Or what to do about Bob?

[Guest guest]

http://wakingheart.com/?p=926

 

Cut Off: The Role of Compassion in Social Death

 

Among the most excruciating suffering one can endure is social death.

Historically, in tribal cultures, being cut off or shunned was a death sentence.

Social death, especially when it covers both interpersonal and occupational

domains, is something we may be evolutionarily prepared to experience as highly

traumatic.

 

As family and tribal social structures erode and fewer individuals compose the

typical social network, social death occurs more readily. Loneliness and

isolation are on the rise (see news article). A national survey conducted by the

University of Chicago found that the average size of each individual's close

friend network shrunk by 30% during the past two decades, and 25% now say they

have no one to confide in (compared to 10% in 1950). For many, their spouse or

partner is their only confidant, making divorce especially difficult.

 

Compassion and loving-kindness are inexorably situated within the social world.

More than mere sympathy or pity, compassion is action designed to ease

suffering. In easing the suffering of social death, where does compassion fit

in?

Social Reality and Its Challenge to Compassion

 

The social world is predominantly defined by our proximity to others, how close

or far away we stand and whether others are sources of attraction or aversion.

In general, those who are special to us are conceptualized as close and warm,

while those with less significance are conceptualized as distant and cold. Those

we find appealing and admirable, we move towards, while those we find

unpalatable, we push away. Some bonds grow stronger; others are cut. The network

is often in flux as we struggle to form and sustain pleasing or useful

connections and dissolve painful or taxing ones.

 

Distance and connection are not just poetic metaphors. Social exclusion evokes

actual physical pain and reduced bodily warmth. We live these metaphors, because

our concepts for the social world were born from physical experiences with

others. When those concepts (e.g., being cut off and distant) are evoked by more

abstract situational factors, the physical pain and cold are nevertheless

intrinsically evoked.

 

Thus, while the pain is very real, social loss is primarily a conceptual

experience. The pain is an integral part of that, but the experience is

conceptual to the extent that external cues are merely markers for the social

reality, which we create internally. The concepts evoked by these cues are the

proximal source of the pain. Nestled in a crowd, surrounded by conversation and

meaningless affections, we can still experience isolation and loneliness, while

other subtle sensory cues tell us that we are connected and supported.

Interpersonal attunement, for instance, which congeals when we mirror the body

language, facial expressions, and vocal tones of others, is one such cue.

 

Compassion and loving-kindness also have a conceptual reality. In Buddhist

practices designed to cultivate these qualities, one envisions increasing

physical proximity to those who are suffering, sending warm light from one's

heart to the other, taking their perspective, feeling what they feel, and

otherwise adopting them as an equal. Essentially, one imagines those who are

suffering as though they were close friends. Pema Chodron, a Buddhist teacher,

often implores us to " widen our circle of compassion. "

 

The challenge is that compassion is often at often odds with our own social

reality. The essence of compassion is to recognize our commonality and

interdependence, not simply to feel our oneness but to live our oneness.

However, social reality often compels us to hold some near and others far, to

express warmth to some and indifference to others, and to selectively administer

our compassion based more on interpersonal connections than on true need.

 

In a poem entitled " Lousy at Math, " Hafiz notes that everyone " dissects the

Indivisible One, by thinking, saying, `This is my Beloved, he looks like this

and acts like that. How could that moron over there really be God.' "

 

How can we integrate compassion into our social reality? In particular, how can

we direct our compassion to those who face social death? Social death is

separation, disconnection, distance, rejection, withdrawal. At its heart, social

death is the removal of an individual from the whole. The healing of social

death requires the reintegration of the individual into the whole, the very

essence of compassion. However, those who face social death may be the precisely

those we most discount as appropriate targets for compassion. In Compassion and

the Individual, Tenzin Gyatso, the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, wrote:

 

" True compassion is not just an emotional response but a firm commitment founded

on reason. Therefore, a truly compassionate attitude towards others does not

change even if they behave negatively… Whether people are beautiful and friendly

or unattractive and disruptive, ultimately they are human beings, just like

oneself. Like oneself, they want happiness and do not want suffering.

Furthermore, their right to overcome suffering and be happy is equal to one's

own. Now, when you recognize that all beings are equal in both their desire for

happiness and their right to obtain it, you automatically feel empathy and

closeness for them. Through accustoming your mind to this sense of universal

altruism, you develop a feeling of responsibility for others: the wish to help

them overcome their problems. Nor is this wish selective; it applies equally to

all. "

Cascade Failure: Pathways to Social Death

 

How does social death occur? One pathway to such absolute loss is cascade

failure of one's social network. It might begin with an otherwise recoverable

disruption or life stressor but progress like a runaway train due to the

interdependency and fragility of modern social bonds and feedback loops between

weakened bonds and feelings of loss.

 

If one's social circle centers around one or two individuals, one broken

relationship may mean the loss of an entire social circle. Not only do you lose

your dance partner, you can no longer join the dance.

 

Relationships are not as strong and well-weathered as they once were. With more

choices, cultivating social bonds becomes a consumer-driven endeavor, like

shopping for the perfect pair of shoes, and small discomforts can be ample cause

for rejection. The closer the bond, the greater our demand for the perfect fit.

 

Frequent moves from one town to another can also mean weaker relationships. With

a young network, one has lower priority in the lives of others, who turn first

to family and lifelong friends for closeness.

 

During times of grief or trauma, the need for social support increases, but

bonds suffer under the strain. " He ain't heavy " was a line sung at a time when

people were less busy, less overwhelmed by life. As bonds weaken, grief and fear

are amplified, and they weaken further. Soon, relationships tumble like

dominoes, and social death occurs at the worst possible time. A close friendship

with a bond strong enough to bear the weight may become a central source of

support, but if that friendship falters for whatever reason, it can be far more

devastating than complete isolation.

 

Further, being in need of emotional support is a marginalizing position. Even

with good intentions, we tend to view those to whom we provide emotional support

as being less able to do the same, and they may lose value in our eyes as a

potential companion.

 

Emotional suffering may evoke empathy, but it can also feel heavy, creating

further distance between oneself and others. Suffering can become stigmatized

and evoke aversion or even disgust. An inability to abide by the emotional

display rules of ordinary social interactions without great effort necessitates

withdrawal. For those who have experienced this progression, reaching out for

support is scary. Disgust is internalized, and isolation is chosen voluntarily

over the experience of repeated alienation from peers.

 

Finally, depression resulting from social loss has the unfortunate side effect

of impeding interpersonal attunement (Lindeman, 2007, unpublished manuscript).

Interpersonal attunement, a delicate dance accomplished through mirroring of

body language, expressions, and vocal tone, is what gives social interactions

their feeling of warmth and closeness and establishes and perpetuates bonding.

The sluggishness and lethargy of depression makes this mirroring impossible, and

feelings of connection slip away.

 

In this way, one's entire social support system, with no more immunity to total

collapse than the Roman Empire, can quickly disintegrate. The crippling

loneliness that ensues makes building a new network seem an impossible task.

Pathologizing Emotional Responses to Social Death

 

In Western culture, a deeper and more damaging level of social death compounds

the initial social death and makes it even more difficult to recover from. We

view emotional well being as the sole responsibility of the individual. We

continuously remind ourselves that other people, especially romantic partners,

are not responsible for our happiness. Our ideal is to be unconditionally happy.

Regardless of whether one embraces this ideal (and I do), it has a curious side

effect.

 

The natural progression of this line of reasoning is that we stop seeing

emotional pain as a guiding measure of our social milieu and begin to view it as

a problem in itself. Instead of seeing pain as a red flag, we see it as a flaw.

For instance, rejection sensitivity is framed as a personal flaw and targeted as

a core issue. However, rejection sensitivity has become more prevalent as

rejection itself becomes more common (c.f., Dumped But Not Down in Psychology

Today). Rejection sensitivity may not be the real problem. The problem may be

the cultural belief that rejection sensitivity is the problem.

 

This view of social pain has three significant consequences. First, we might

reenter situations that caused us pain believing that the fault lies within. We

might subject ourselves to the same loss or rejection over and over again

believing we simply need to find some way of enjoying it. If you can't turn off

the fire alarm, pull out the batteries. Smash it on the floor. Whatever you do,

don't put out the fire. That can't be the problem.

 

Second, our sense of social responsibility is diminished. If emotional well

being is divorced from its social context, we feel less obligation to be present

for one another. Loneliness arises less as a consequence of social paucity and

more as a consequence of bystander apathy.

 

Third, normal emotional responses to profound social loss are pathologized,

which can be stigmatizing in itself (see Stigma as Social Death: Mental Health

Consumers/Survivors Talk About Stigma in Their Lives).

 

It had been fifteen years since I stayed in the hospital for emotional pain. I

had almost forgotten what it was like. In the wake of several life stressors, my

social network reached the final throes of cascade failure, both personally and

professionally. Social death, as a recently divorced mother of two, was far

beyond my coping threshold. Having centered my doctoral research on social

exclusion, I was fortunate enough to become my own case study.

 

Entering a psychiatric inpatient unit, especially as a psychology PhD student,

was upsetting in itself, but the reception was downright humiliating. The

contents of my purse were dumped onto a table, my belongings searched, blood

drawn, many questions asked. Finally, after the long interviews, I was left

alone and spent the vast majority of my time sitting in my room attempting to

meditate.

 

While in the hospital, I met a woman who suffered terribly from a sense that she

did not matter to anyone in her world. Even her close family constantly degraded

her, and her emotional suffering caused them to degrade her even further. A

familiar downward spiral. Her pain was palpable. Her suffering was addressed

with numerous medications, multiple rounds of electroshock therapy, and

countless stays in the unit, during which she spent most of her time alone in

her room attempting not to injure herself.

 

Perhaps most damaging was the diagnosis itself, whatever it was, and the grand

message conveyed by every nuance of her surroundings: the notion that the root

of her suffering lie in some personal psychological defect. The Dalai Lama tells

of meeting with scientists in America who related the high rate of mental

illness in the population. " It became clear during our discussion, " he writes,

" that the main cause of depression was not a lack of material necessities but a

deprivation of the affection of others. "

 

Social death is a hidden blight, because we never see those who experience it.

We can't imagine what they are going through. I received a message from someone

who recently severed his friendship with me. He asked me to return a book and

wished me a Merry Christmas with my family.

 

I wished that I could tell him I am spending this Christmas alone, as I did last

year. My children are with their father, savoring their time with him before he

moves to Europe. Visiting family is unfeasible for countless reasons. Christmas

is only a day on the calendar, I keep telling myself. Nevertheless, sadness

still wells up inside.

How Many?

 

I have this fantasy of going to an apartment complex on the south side on

Christmas day and knocking on every door until I find someone who is alone. When

they open the door, I ask, " Are you all by yourself this Christmas? " When they

nod yes, I pull out a gift. (Well, first I might ask if they even celebrate

Christmas.)

 

" This is for you, " I say. I don't know what I would put in the package, but it

would be something warm, something beautiful. Perhaps a hand painted mug and a

canister of fine tea.

 

If they started talking, I would listen. If they kept talking, I would have a

seat on their sofa and listen some more. " You have five children? Wow! How old

are they? "

 

If they felt too shy to talk, I would smile and depart. " Hey, you're not really

alone, " I'd say, before slipping away. " You have a place in the world, and the

universe loves you. "

 

How many people, I wonder, will be sitting in their quiet apartments softly

crying on Christmas while we embrace our kin amid warm lights and delicious

aromas?

Cultivating Compassion

 

Being cut off and isolated evokes intense suffering. How can we enable this

suffering to stir our hearts and move us to act? And what can we really do about

it anyway?

 

In the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, Sogyal Rinpoche writes, " A powerful way

to evoke compassion is to think of others as exactly the same as you. " Imagine

that others are " another you. " He encourages us to put a close friend or loved

one in the shoes of one who is suffering.

 

Generally, those we target during compassion meditation are loved ones, friends,

enemies, and strangers. Enemies are those who evoke anger or hatred. Strangers

are emotionally neutral.

 

In addition to these targets, include in your meditation those who evoke

indifference or apathy, those who have fallen off your social radar, those whose

suffering you believe is theirs to bear alone, those you consider outside your

circle, or those you have outright rejected. Those who evoke indifference are

not necessarily neutral strangers. Often, it is easier to conjure up compassion

for a neutral stranger than for one we are inclined to see as explicitly outside

of our circle.

 

Perhaps indifference is an antidote or shield to the demands on your heart

implied by those in need. Yet, when we offer indifference or disconnection to

others, even only in our minds, they feel it acutely, and their pain is what

presses on our hearts. When we offer inclusion, even only in the apparent

privacy of our own separate consciousness, they feel that too. Compassion is a

strong step towards healing social death in the world.

 

To learn more, see: Awakening Compassion

Also highly recommended: The Most Transformative Technique for Love and

Compassion from UrbanMonk.net

Transforming Social Reality

 

After cultivating compassion, making a difference is not particularly hard.

Social death is primarily a conceptual experience. External cues are merely

markers for the social reality, which we create internally. This means that

healing social death involves offering external cues that say, " You are a part

of the whole. You and I are in the same circle. " In the end, inclusion may be as

simple as saying, " You have a friend in me. "

 

During periods of loss or loneliness, when my inner social reality was one of

isolation and disconnection, those souls who most touched my heart and gave me

strength were those who acknowledged my pain but refused to buy into my reality.

They offered their presence without pity, without placing themselves in the role

of helper.

 

Confronted with the conceptual reality of social death, certain metaphorical

concepts may arise. These include:

 

* weight or heaviness,

* pressure,

* disgust or repulsion,

* distance,

* coldness, and

* robbing of energy

 

As these concepts evoke their corresponding feelings, compassion is obstructed.

 

The task during compassion meditation is to work through these concepts and

feelings to develop compassion that transcends metaphor. In the end, when you

think of that person, you will feel no weight, no pressure, no repulsion, no

distance, no coldness, and no loss of energy. Nothing given, nothing taken.

Simply, you want their suffering to end.

 

Don't try to fix me. Then I am broken.

Don't try to help me. Then I have nothing to offer.

Don't try to support me. Then I am a burden.

Don't struggle to include me in your circle. Then I am an outsider.

Just want me in your world.

Then I am a part of the whole.

Paradoxes

 

When you transcend metaphor, you begin to notice paradoxes. According to our

conceptual reality for compassion, proximity and warmth are the primary means to

nurture the well being of others, and if proximity and warmth are not feasible

or beneficial in a given situation, compassion is impossible.

 

Thus, situations which require that we emotionally disengage are perceived as

being in conflict with compassion. There are times when it is necessary to

emotionally disengage. However, the weakening of social networks makes it easy

to interpret emotional disengagement as impending social death. Disengaging as

social death is something we perceive at a gut level. Even for one who is

responsible for disengaging, such a step is difficult to take without feeling as

though one is sentencing the other person to a sort of social death, even if

only in one's imagination.

 

Emotionally disengaging can be an act of compassion rather than a death

sentence. Distance can be an act of love.

Projections

 

In the depths of social death, desperation for communion makes me willing, even

eager, to adopt and thereby enter the reality of anyone around me. If I can join

them in their perspective, I'm not alone. If someone wants to diagnose my

suffering, " Yes, yes, whatever you say. " A sort of Stockholm Syndrome sets in.

 

Yet, the reality of others may include a projection of me with characteristics

we tend to see in those experiencing social death: heaviness, need, sorrow.

Things we dare not take on. When I adopt their reality, I adopt their impression

of me. In their eyes, I am beyond help or perhaps simply… beyond. In which case,

I feel even more cut off.

 

Then, not only must I heal from social loss, I must heal from a perspective on

myself that traps me in that loss. Such healing requires I hold firm my own

reality. In my perspective, I am a part of a system, a part of the whole. I am a

reflection of everyone who comes into contact with me, and they are a reflection

of me. We are interdependent, whether conscious of it or not.

Embracing Social Loss

 

Even as I write about cultivating compassion and process through my own

experience of social loss, I begin to embrace it. Slowly at first. Reluctantly.

Grief resumes its hard course. Resentments dissolve, as I know they must. Trauma

completes its descent into my mind. I look at the photos of the winter solstice

party where my former friends danced and communed, a party to which I was not

invited, and try not to imagine myself disintegrating into a million little

pieces of dust. My longing for some surrogate tribe has worn on me for too long.

 

Instead of clamoring for social contact, which has become exhausting and

endlessly heart breaking, I sink into solitude, relinquish my sense of

entitlement to the presence of others in my life, rest, and surrender. Despite

the pain, I believe this is the lesson for me.

 

In her book, When Things Fall Apart, Pema Chodron describes how loneliness can

be transformative:

 

Usually we regard loneliness as an enemy. Heartache is not something we choose

to invite in. It's restless, pregnant, and hot with the desire to escape and

find something or someone to keep it company. When we can rest in the middle, we

begin to have a nonthreatening relationship with loneliness, a relaxing and

cooling loneliness that completely turns our usual fearful patterns upside down.

 

There are six ways of describing this kind of cool loneliness. They are: less

desire, contentment, avoiding unnecessary activity, complete discipline, not

wandering in the world of desire, and not seeking security from one's discursive

thoughts…

 

When you wake up in the morning and out of nowhere comes the heartache of

alienation and loneliness, could you use that as a golden opportunity? Rather

than persecuting yourself or feeling that something terribly wrong is happening,

right there in the moment of sadness and longing, could you relax and touch the

limitless space of the human heart?

 

As I surrender, I begin to sense the presence of kindness in my life, which

grief occludes. My eyes are opened to the caring of old friends and new friends,

and gratitude begins to fill the space occupied by resentment and regret.

 

One thing I have gained from this experience is the realization of just how

easily it happens, how hard it is to climb out of, and just how deeply and

relentlessly excruciating it is. Social death is a quicksand that smothers the

heart. Knowing this, I feel compassion for everyone who feels it too. Okay,

universe, mission accomplished.

 

Copyright Waking Heart

_________________

Let there be no harm in harmony.

[Guest guest]

Nisargadatta , " anna " <kailashana wrote:

>

> http://wakingheart.com/?p=926

>

> Cut Off: The Role of Compassion in Social Death

>

> Among the most excruciating suffering one can endure is social death.

 

 

....... snip .......

 

Many thanks, Anna,

 

This is a most important topic you started: Social death.

 

Our strongest fear is not the fear of death but the fear to be left alone and to

be an outsider and the opposite of it is the need to belong to, by all means.

 

This fear to be leaft alone is not only a basic fear which was determining

childhood but which also is responsible for adopting and subdueing to the

demands and moral of a group and in the last end to become a crippled soul.

 

Werner

[Guest guest]

Nisargadatta , " wwoehr " <wwoehr wrote:

>

>

>

> Nisargadatta , " anna " <kailashana@> wrote:

> >

> > http://wakingheart.com/?p=926

> >

> > Cut Off: The Role of Compassion in Social Death

> >

> > Among the most excruciating suffering one can endure is social death.

>

>

> ...... snip .......

>

> Many thanks, Anna,

>

> This is a most important topic you started: Social death.

>

> Our strongest fear is not the fear of death but the fear to be left alone and

to be an outsider and the opposite of it is the need to belong to, by all means.

>

> This fear to be leaft alone is not only a basic fear which was determining

childhood but which also is responsible for adopting and subdueing to the

demands and moral of a group and in the last end to become a crippled soul.

>

> Werner

 

 

uh..#2..

 

could you please restate the last paragraph.

 

pretty please.

 

it just doesn't seem to make any sense.

 

how does anyone " subdue to " anything?

 

is being the only vote against someone a:

 

" last end to become a crippled soul " thing?

 

is that sort of like a bad eyesight deal?

 

not that anyone is being accused of whining..

 

baba is just wondering.

 

many thanks for starting this important topic answer.

 

:-)

 

..b b.b.

[Guest guest]

Nisargadatta , " wwoehr " <wwoehr wrote:

>

>

>

> Nisargadatta , " anna " <kailashana@> wrote:

> >

> > http://wakingheart.com/?p=926

> >

> > Cut Off: The Role of Compassion in Social Death

> >

> > Among the most excruciating suffering one can endure is social death.

>

>

> ...... snip .......

>

> Many thanks, Anna,

>

> This is a most important topic you started: Social death.

>

> Our strongest fear is not the fear of death but the fear to be left alone and

to be an outsider and the opposite of it is the need to belong to, by all means.

>

> This fear to be leaft alone is not only a basic fear which was determining

childhood but which also is responsible for adopting and subdueing to the

demands and moral of a group and in the last end to become a crippled soul.

 

 

 

I did not read the entire text, but skimmed through till I

found what I was looking for and expecting (wakingheart in

the top line being the key-word): the great opportunity of

social death.

 

Rather then talk of the demands and moral of a group (each

member of a group IS the group) would I talk of the demand

which is the ideological structure of the group.

 

Without ideas, without an ideological structure - no group.

 

I see these lists as " groups " of in-dividuals - out-siders.

At least it is the outsiders who keep babbling as the rest

- those who still believe, who still have faith, who still

think there is a way out, who still believe in an ideology

or theory or final solution, have given up a long time ago.

 

It can never " cripple a " soul " " to be an outsider - never!

Not if he is real such. An unreal outsider is a " soul " who

thinks he is a " soul " , that's to say he is still afraid to

lose his identity, to lose his precious little " self " .

 

A real outsider is solo - goes solo - plays solo - is solo

always! - and if not straightflushhappy all the time, then

at least almost happy most of the time.

 

Love

Lene

[Guest guest]

Nisargadatta , " Lene " <lschwabe wrote:

>

>

>

> Nisargadatta , " wwoehr " <wwoehr@> wrote:

> >

> >

> >

> > Nisargadatta , " anna " <kailashana@> wrote:

> > >

> > > http://wakingheart.com/?p=926

> > >

> > > Cut Off: The Role of Compassion in Social Death

> > >

> > > Among the most excruciating suffering one can endure is social death.

> >

> >

> > ...... snip .......

> >

> > Many thanks, Anna,

> >

> > This is a most important topic you started: Social death.

> >

> > Our strongest fear is not the fear of death but the fear to be left alone

and to be an outsider and the opposite of it is the need to belong to, by all

means.

> >

> > This fear to be leaft alone is not only a basic fear which was determining

childhood but which also is responsible for adopting and subdueing to the

demands and moral of a group and in the last end to become a crippled soul.

>

>

>

> I did not read the entire text, but skimmed through till I

> found what I was looking for and expecting (wakingheart in

> the top line being the key-word): the great opportunity of

> social death.

>

> Rather then talk of the demands and moral of a group (each

> member of a group IS the group) would I talk of the demand

> which is the ideological structure of the group.

>

> Without ideas, without an ideological structure - no group.

>

> I see these lists as " groups " of in-dividuals - out-siders.

> At least it is the outsiders who keep babbling as the rest

> - those who still believe, who still have faith, who still

> think there is a way out, who still believe in an ideology

> or theory or final solution, have given up a long time ago.

>

> It can never " cripple a " soul " " to be an outsider - never!

> Not if he is real such. An unreal outsider is a " soul " who

> thinks he is a " soul " , that's to say he is still afraid to

> lose his identity, to lose his precious little " self " .

>

> A real outsider is solo - goes solo - plays solo - is solo

> always! - and if not straightflushhappy all the time, then

> at least almost happy most of the time.

>

> Love

> Lene

>

 

 

Lene,

 

No one wrote that the soul gets crippled to be and outsider but I wrote that

'the fear to be left alone and to be an outsider and the opposite of it the need

to belong to, by all means' will cripple the soul.

 

Can you see the difference ?

 

Werner

[Guest guest]

Nisargadatta , " wwoehr " <wwoehr wrote:

>

>

>

> Nisargadatta , " Lene " <lschwabe@> wrote:

> >

> >

> >

> > Nisargadatta , " wwoehr " <wwoehr@> wrote:

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > Nisargadatta , " anna " <kailashana@> wrote:

> > > >

> > > > http://wakingheart.com/?p=926

> > > >

> > > > Cut Off: The Role of Compassion in Social Death

> > > >

> > > > Among the most excruciating suffering one can endure is social death.

> > >

> > >

> > > ...... snip .......

> > >

> > > Many thanks, Anna,

> > >

> > > This is a most important topic you started: Social death.

> > >

> > > Our strongest fear is not the fear of death but the fear to be left alone

and to be an outsider and the opposite of it is the need to belong to, by all

means.

> > >

> > > This fear to be leaft alone is not only a basic fear which was determining

childhood but which also is responsible for adopting and subdueing to the

demands and moral of a group and in the last end to become a crippled soul.

> >

> >

> >

> > I did not read the entire text, but skimmed through till I

> > found what I was looking for and expecting (wakingheart in

> > the top line being the key-word): the great opportunity of

> > social death.

> >

> > Rather then talk of the demands and moral of a group (each

> > member of a group IS the group) would I talk of the demand

> > which is the ideological structure of the group.

> >

> > Without ideas, without an ideological structure - no group.

> >

> > I see these lists as " groups " of in-dividuals - out-siders.

> > At least it is the outsiders who keep babbling as the rest

> > - those who still believe, who still have faith, who still

> > think there is a way out, who still believe in an ideology

> > or theory or final solution, have given up a long time ago.

> >

> > It can never " cripple a " soul " " to be an outsider - never!

> > Not if he is real such. An unreal outsider is a " soul " who

> > thinks he is a " soul " , that's to say he is still afraid to

> > lose his identity, to lose his precious little " self " .

> >

> > A real outsider is solo - goes solo - plays solo - is solo

> > always! - and if not straightflushhappy all the time, then

> > at least almost happy most of the time.

> >

> > Love

> > Lene

> >

>

>

> Lene,

>

> No one wrote that the soul gets crippled to be and outsider but I wrote that

'the fear to be left alone and to be an outsider and the opposite of it the need

to belong to, by all means' will cripple the soul.

>

> Can you see the difference ?

>

> Werner

 

 

there is no difference to see if as you say..

 

" the fear to be left alone AND it's opposite..the need to belong " ..

 

BOTH are cripplers.

 

why then too is it that you ask questions like:

 

" Hur..do we NEED a member like..etc.? "

 

seems like you NEED to feel as if you NEED to belong..

 

AND to not be left alone (even though you have been in the process)..

 

to a group with exclusionary policies.

 

like always werner you're talking out of both sides of your ass.

 

blow holes 1 & 2.

 

no damn wonder you feel fearful and alone.

 

i don't blame you.

 

and remember because neither being a member or being alone..

 

make any difference or matter at all..

 

change that mistaken vote.

 

or it may cripple your soul.

 

and did i comment yet on your lovely hairdo voter wernie?

 

but please don't ask me to comment on the nose.

 

i don't want to lose a potential vote change..

 

over some silly little big thing like your nose.

 

hey..what if i promised i could change that?

 

like all great politicians i'm willing to lie about that too.

 

whatever makes you happy wern.

 

that's the goal!

 

:-)

 

..b b.b.

[Guest guest]

> > > Nisargadatta , " anna " <kailashana@> wrote:

> > > >

> > > > http://wakingheart.com/?p=926

> > > >

> > > > Cut Off: The Role of Compassion in Social Death

> > > >

> > > > Among the most excruciating suffering one can endure is social death.

> > >

> > >

> > > ...... snip .......

> > >

> > > Many thanks, Anna,

> > >

> > > This is a most important topic you started: Social death.

> > >

> > > Our strongest fear is not the fear of death but the fear to be left alone

and to be an outsider and the opposite of it is the need to belong to, by all

means.

> > >

> > > This fear to be leaft alone is not only a basic fear which was determining

childhood but which also is responsible for adopting and subdueing to the

demands and moral of a group and in the last end to become a crippled soul.

> >

> >

> >

> > I did not read the entire text, but skimmed through till I

> > found what I was looking for and expecting (wakingheart in

> > the top line being the key-word): the great opportunity of

> > social death.

> >

> > Rather then talk of the demands and moral of a group (each

> > member of a group IS the group) would I talk of the demand

> > which is the ideological structure of the group.

> >

> > Without ideas, without an ideological structure - no group.

> >

> > I see these lists as " groups " of in-dividuals - out-siders.

> > At least it is the outsiders who keep babbling as the rest

> > - those who still believe, who still have faith, who still

> > think there is a way out, who still believe in an ideology

> > or theory or final solution, have given up a long time ago.

> >

> > It can never " cripple a " soul " " to be an outsider - never!

> > Not if he is real such. An unreal outsider is a " soul " who

> > thinks he is a " soul " , that's to say he is still afraid to

> > lose his identity, to lose his precious little " self " .

> >

> > A real outsider is solo - goes solo - plays solo - is solo

> > always! - and if not straightflushhappy all the time, then

> > at least almost happy most of the time.

> >

> > Love

> > Lene

> >

>

>

> Lene,

>

> No one wrote that the soul gets crippled to be and outsider but I wrote that

'the fear to be left alone and to be an outsider and the opposite of it the need

to belong to, by all means' will cripple the soul.

>

> Can you see the difference ?

 

 

 

I understand what you just wrote which is not what

you wrote in the original message

 

Using your explanation as a jumpboard:

 

FEAR of ... being left, of not belonging aso

 

May lead to

 

Excessive behaviour ( " crippled soul's behaviour " )

 

MAY

 

It may - may - also lead to one's stepping out of

..... as the system/the structure breaks to pieces

 

Which is the same as saying that

 

The " crippled soul " which IS the system/structure

of a hard-rock identification with .... breaks to

pieces

 

And hopla

 

One is an outsider without a soul

 

There is no such thing as a healthy soul

 

I will take a break ... it is always difficult to

have " serious discussions "

 

No offense - you know me - I need not explain ...

 

-Lene