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It was minus 7 so I got up early to scrape ice off the car windows. The journey to the train station that followed felt like torture. I got stuck behind a JCB for 10 miles with nowhere to pass. It reached a peak of 20mph and I kept glancing at the clock anxiously. Was I going to make it? I could feel the frustration like a tight knot in my stomach. Every passing moment felt like slow motion. I kept looking ahead, hoping for a clear stretch to overtake. It took forever. When I finally did get past, I felt like waving an angry gesture at the JCB driver. ‘How could you be such a *£%!&$* pain?!’
I left the car and jogged the final 10 minutes to the station. According to the clock, I’d missed the train but adrenaline spurred me on. On arrival, breathless, I discovered the train was running late. I caught it, stepped on board just as it pulled into the station. I sighed with great relief. Yet what a waste of nervous energy. The pressure I put myself under not to miss the train. The imagined exaggerated consequences if I were to arrive late. The risk of dangerous driving in icy conditions. My ungracious attitude towards the JBC driver. The life draining stress of an impatient journey. How much of my life I live under self-imposed pressure. The deadlines I create for myself. The expectations I place on myself. The determination to arrive on time, never to be late. The avoidance of risks that could lead to a mistake. The drive to do everything perfectly. The unwillingness to let a ball drop. The desire always to do well, never to fail. Such pressures can drive me inwards, close me down, cause me to lose contact with God, lose contact with people. It leaves me tired, stressed, anxious, irritable, frustrated and self-centric. It’s not the kind of person I want to be. I can almost hear God whispering to me, ‘Stop…look...listen...look up and around you…breathe…’ It’s about regaining perspective, keeping the most important things in view. Not losing sight of the people, the things, the issues, the actions that matter most. It’s about loosening my grip, learning to prioritise, learning to negotiate, increasing flexibility. I know these things in my head, I practice them in my work, but the experience this morning has flashed into consciousness with renewed energy and vision. It’s something about learning to live, to love and to know peace.
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Gestalt psychology emphasises the value of high quality contact, where contact is about presence, attention, engagement, relationship. I'm sure you've had the experience of being with someone who appeared bored or distracted. Conversely, think of examples when someone has really been there for you, with you, really listened hard. In that moment, you felt close, connected.
In the busyness of life, it can feel hard to stay in contact with ourselves, our physical environment, others around us. It's as if we live in a blur, a semi-conscious state, that deadens us to the richness of life and real engagement. It's a survival strategy, a way of dealing with complex pressures and demands, that can nevertheless leave us feeling empty, alientated, lifeless. We can experience the same in our spiritual lives too, vaguely aware of a Presence that lies beyond but largely drowned out by other activities and preoccupations. We get bored, restless, dissatisfied, exhausted. Christian life can feel like a concept, an abstraction, a memory rather than a vibrant, life-giving relationship in the here and now. In order to re-establish contact, a Gestalt therapist may encourage a person to pause, sit, notice what's going on in and around them at that very moment...thoughts, feelings, breathing, sights, sounds, their own body. The aim is to help raise into awareness that which lies buried, ignored, suppressed or unnoticed. It's about exploring the 'what else' of a person's experience. Take 5 minutes. Allow yourself to relax. Notice your breathing. Notice your body, how you are sitting, how you are feeling in different parts of your body. Notice how you are feeling, where you are feeling it. Notice what thoughts are drifting through your mind, what is preoccupying you. Look and listen, what do you notice in the room, sights, sounds, smells, what do you notice outside? This kind of practical exercise draws our attention away from the past or the future into the present. Now practice being present, really present to another person. Allow that person to fill your attention. Notice how they look, listen to them attentively, tune into how they are feeling. Notice how giving attention affects the quality and feeling of contact between you. These principles are really important in Christian leadership. It's about paying attention to how we arrive in meetings and enable others to arrive. It's too easy to rush in, race ahead with an agenda, without really first becoming present to and with one another. It's about how to establish high quality, meaningful contact with oneself, others in the room and God, to really hear and discern. (I love Richard Rohr's comment in Things Hidden: 'God's face is turned towards us absolutely...it is we who have to learn, little by little, to return the gaze.' It conveys the profound and startling revelation that God is already present to us, already in deep contact with us. In this sense, spirituality is something about becoming present to the Presence, the God who is already with us.) Take an aide-memoire into your next meeting. Ask yourself silently, 'What is the quality of my contact with myself...with the other people in the room...with God...with the subject matter we are considering?' 'What can we do to improve the quality of contact in order to bring out the best in ourselves and each other?' You may be amazed at the difference it can make. I find it curious how difficult it is to be, become and stay present in the present moment. Even more so to be present to the Presence who is himself present to us in the present moment. But what is it about presence that sounds so deeply attractive and enriching yet feels so elusive in practice?
My mind is so easily preoccupied with what has happened in the past, or what I anticipate happening in the future, that simply being in the here and now takes real effort and concentration. It seems paradoxical to me. After all, I am in the present moment and yet nevertheless find it so hard to be here. Buddhists describe the discipline of being present in the here and now as mindfulness, the art of being and becoming aware. It draws attention to the senses - what am I seeing, hearing, touching, feeling, smelling, tasting, doing. It's about what is going on within and around me, now; noticing the unnoticed. A close friend gave me a gift, a book called Nowhere. The title itself reveals a mystery, since what appears to be a negation at first glance is also the words 'Now...here'. In gestalt, it's a phenomenon known as 'figure' (what emerges and captures our attention) and 'ground' (what lies unnoticed behind). By becoming focused or fixated on one aspect of my experience to the exclusion of others, I lose the ability to notice what else is happening in the same space and time. This selective ability enables attention and concentration but I wonder how much it filters out that could be of true or deeper value. So, what am I not noticing? What am I not paying attention to that could bring fresh insight or broaden perspective and experience? What am I not saying or doing that could deepen my relationship with or value to others? Who or what am I pushing into background that should really feature as foreground? |
Nick WrightI'm a psychological coach, trainer and OD consultant. Curious to discover how can I help you? Get in touch! 
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