Non-Self-Confidence

Dear Friends,

Welcome to the latest post in Mark Blogs: Non-Self-Confidence

I see that there are often times when I feel that I don’t have so much to offer, and just as I know that I am not the only person to experience happiness, sadness or any other emotional or mental state, I know that I’m not alone in my feelings of unworthiness. 

Sometimes when I look at my heroes in life, I get caught in my limited perceptions of them. I might see them as always confident, always capable, brilliant at what they do. It’s rare that we have the opportunity to see that the people we look up to may also have moments, longer or shorter, of feeling not enough. This contrasts greatly with the picture I have of myself – I have an all-access pass to my inner world. With a discriminative mind, I can divide what I see of myself into the parts that I value and the parts that I don’t, and I can get fixated on the negative.

This is a natural tendency of the mind, to identify problems and to fixate on them, ignoring what is going well. From an evolutionary perspective this makes sense, if something is going well, why spend energy on it, it’s the things that aren’t going well that are going to get us into trouble. It’s like the carrot and stick motivation, we’ve evolved to be more motivated by the stick than the carrot. Fear of death is a strong motivator. I’m not sure if they had carrots out on the palaeolithic savannah, but if they did and we didn’t get one today, there was always tomorrow, but if we failed to avoid a stick, possibly no more tomorrows. This tendency of the mind seems a little unfair, given that there’s always many more things going right than going wrong. But evolution was unconcerned about whether things were fair, or whether we were happy about it; it was concerned primarily with our survival. Given that everyone reading this represents an unbroken chain of life going back billions of years, you’d have to say it’s done pretty well. 

This is part of the inherent negativity bias of the mind, the tendency to focus on the difficulties. From this perspective, I can be aware of the voice in my mind that cautions me about trying and failing, about the dangers of public humiliation, being found out to be other than. Back in the day being excluded from the tribe significantly diminished the likelihood of survival, and today, ostracism is still a powerful form of social control.

When I am feeling less than confident, and my mind is asking me what it is that I have to share, I am bolstered by the insight of non-self. In moments of clarity I see that I am truly empty of a separate self. That I am simply a container for the immeasurable inputs that I have received, from my ancestors, my teachers, my society and more, both the skilful and the not so skilful. I can see that I have had many wonderful and insightful beings take the time to put something into this container. For me to say that I have nothing to share is frankly a tad ungrateful for everything that I have received. There is no me that is sharing, the small me need not have pride or shame, although there is only the sharing and the thing being shared is not mine. 

Pride is also tricky. I recall attending a Dharma talk given by one of the senior monastics. He was sharing his insight on a topic, and I suddenly realised that he was expressing an insight I felt I had only recently had. A part of me wanted him to stop, thinking, 'If everyone has that insight, how would I be special?'. Afterwards I had to laugh because, how could I have thought that that insight was mine? I often have trouble using the word insight. To me, it implies something more profound than I believe myself capable of. Insight is something that Zen Masters have about the nature of reality. For me, once an insight has been revealed, it soon quickly feels more like common-sense and it’s difficult to understand how I ever saw things otherwise. This is a potential danger, as we need to hold our insights lightly, ready at any time to let them go, so that we can progress on the path of understanding.   

Insight is one of those counterintuitive things where the more you let go of it, the more you have. It’s not something that is our’s to possess. With the insight of nonself, we know that the growth of others is our growth. If we think of it as a commodity to be acquired, its value will decrease. It’s in the sharing that its value increases.

It’s funny when my mind says something like, “what have I got to say?” because my mind is very rarely short of things to say internally. When Thich Nhat Hanh tells us about turning off our non-stop radio, it’s from the awareness that we have an internal radio station that never tires of broadcasting. I’ve just finished a seven-day silent fasting retreat, and for the most part, the silence was only really outside. This retreat was a rich experience, and I’ll share more about it in the next blog).

When facilitating Dharma sharing, I often like to remind people that each one of us represents a vast array of ancestors, we’re the descendants of hundreds of thousands of beings. Every one of them has been successful in navigating countless difficulties, learning innumerable lessons and has deep wisdom, experience to share through us. 

When I was in my mid-twenties I remember going to a museum of modern art, it might have been MoMa in New York or the Guggenheim museum in Bilbao. But while I was there I was perusing the art on display.

One particular painting caught my attention, it was a monochrome black square on canvas. Now I’m not aware of any particular artistic abilities within me, but I was fairly sure that I could have done that.. I read the information plaque at the side that described the particular shade of black and the texture of the canvas and the layering of the paint etc, but I still thought ..I could have said that. I remember hearing a voice inside even then that said, “yes but you didn’t”. (We’ll overlook the fact that Kazimir Malevich or Ad Reinhardt, both of whom created such art, were also exceptionally gifted at more representational styles).

I have the belief now that all of us have the potential to create art, to be an artist in whatever form they choose and that the only difference between an “artist” and a non-artist is in the doing. Yes there are artists whom we may say have more subjective talent and those that are less gifted, but even less gifted artists are still creating art. I feel that everybody has something to say, something of value to share.

I have a tendency to think of things as scarce. What if everyone created art? Would there be enough people to buy it for artists to make a living. Maybe if everyone was an “artist”, we would create a very different society, one where we didn’t need to sell what we’ve created to survive. 

One of my practices is to remind that part of myself that can get caught in a perception of scarcity or lack, that we live in a universe of infinite space and that this space can be shared with everyone. I remember spending many occasions with a young monastic from Plum Village. He had ordained quite young, and despite his youthful looks, was a senior monk. He had this amazing capacity to open up and include others. He had a very generous disposition, and when we were together in a group, I would often see him sharing the things that he had. Even when the simple resources he was sharing – chocolate, tea, biscuits, etc – didn't look like there would be enough for everyone, he could welcome others as they joined our circle. Plum Village is a vibrant community, and circles often expand quickly as friends happen to pass by. At times, I might offer to make hot chocolate for a group of three or four friends. I would joyfully go off and get the cups, the hot chocolate, the water etc, and often when I came back more people would have manifested. In these situations I could experience anger. I had wanted to be generous, but I felt I didn’t have the resources to offer to the bigger group. When this particular brother was sharing, I noticed that he never seemed flustered or irritated by the changing conditions. He always seemed to be able to offer enough to everyone, irrespective of how large the group became. Now I see that with a little bit of mindfulness, having a small piece of what is shared is more than enough to enjoy, and I can be at least a little bit more relaxed in these situations. 

Dear friends, maybe you have something in your heart that you would like to offer or a new direction that you would like to explore. Maybe you’ve been putting off starting for one reason or another. Please know that you are good enough, ready enough just as you are. It won’t be perfect, and you’ll learn as you go. I include myself in this encouragement because having the courage to do something new is a journey and not a destination. Continuous steps are required, and each one can be bolstered with your non-self-confidence.