Mindfulness: increase Presence, facilitate Change

Finished reading Knut Hamsun’s “Hunger.”  I liked it although not as much as Hamsun's other classic, "Pan."  In "Hunger," his first novel, Hamsun – a 1920 Norwegian Nobel Laureate in Literature – like Dostoevsky half a century before him – upgraded the fleeting micro-events of human consciousness to the macro level of the observable literary narrative.

“Hunger” – to me – is, one level, a convulsion of the existential grotesque, and, on another level, a Buddhist character arc of letting go of Ego. An amateurish (much like myself) writer tries to sublimate hunger as a muse. Destitute and intermittently homeless, he taps into the manic euphoria of starvation, chasing the dragon of his racing mind in the hope of a masterpiece that would give him food and shelter.

Nervous and handicapped by pseudo-dignity, like Dostoevsky’s Raskolnikov (Crime and Punishment), Hamsun’s protagonist tries to mute the agony of hunger by turning the Maslow’s pyramid of needs upside down: starving in body, he seeks the satiety of creativity…

Needless to say, he fails. That is until he succeeds: having finally given up on trying to save his face (his Ego) by borrowing the petty loans he cannot return and making promises he cannot fulfill, he begs for a job and gets it. As he sails off on a Russian ship into the nowhere of the novel’s last page, we – the readers – are reassured that, at least, for the next leg of his existential journey he has a steady diet of food to sustain his hunger for significance…

A couple of years ago I was reading an article by Rev. Kyoki Roberts of the Zen Center of Pittsburgh (in “The Prairie Wind Zen” newsletter) about a pilgrimage she had endeavored. Early on in the article she “zoomed in” on the ego-struggle of begging. If I recall correctly, she was thirsty before she was hungry. The ordained Soto Zen Buddhist – all of a sudden, - was caught in the classic dilemma of two attachments: the body wanted to drink and the mind wanted to keep its Ego. Rev. Kyoki Roberts passed the litmus test and lived to write about it. Rev. Kyoki’s story of “Thirst” – in brush strokes – parallels the universal story of human “Hunger” for significance.

My point?

Hunger and thirst – the notorious basic needs – the two Sphinxes of Physiology – stand guarding the Maslow’s Pyramid of Self-Actualization.

Several years ago – after diligent and regular 24 and 48 hour long detoxification fasts – my wife and I attempted an 11-day long fast. While my wife took a few “vacation days” and had the “medical supervision” for this experiment, I – the aspiring Stoic that I was – just winged it. Empowered by Paul Bragg’s bragging about running 10k through Arizona desert on an empty stomach, I decided to keep my cardio and weight-lifting routine and kept up my full-time private practice schedule. We both pulled through and found the experience physiologically and psychologically educational. The hunger went away after a couple of days and didn’t seem to be a problem, except for an occasional craving. We both felt very calm. Speaking for myself only, I attribute the calmness to the sobriety of the mind: all the symbolism of our existential day-to-day hunger (for accomplishment, for significance, for recognition and all that junk) evaporated. I saw through the veneer of this Relativity of Mind’s Goals better than before (but not necessarily better than “since”).

But here’s the kicker: my decision to keep working while I was fasting showed me something very valuable. In those days I used to see about 35 people per week – so for 35 to 50 session hours (the fast ran a whole week and spilled over into another week) I noted almost a total lack of compassion. The hunger – like a sediment of selfishness – obscured everything. I was in a zone – a zone of waiting. Empathy was gone. Attention was gone. Clinical creativity was gone. I just sat there – being the best Rogerian I could be (and, truth be told, most clients seemed to respond well to my otherwise occasionally verbose clinical style).

Kneeling in front of the Physiological Sphinx of Hunger, I was waiting for admittance into the Realm of Being Blissfully Oblivious to the Basic Needs of the Body. Lesson learned: to be Human, we have to take care of the Beast in us.

Don’t get me wrong: the fast was not a miserable experience by any means. It even wasn’t an experience of hunger. It was an experience of calm but strenuous preoccupation with the Physiological. Definitely, not a plane from which to do Psychology. Nor – it would seem – is it the plane from which to do Literature as Hamsun’s protagonist found out as he was trying to write his magnum opus on an empty stomach. Metaphysical considerations aside: Something doesn’t come from Nothing.

Take home message? When you diet, not only is your body on a diet, your mind is on a diet as well. Self-restriction – in its centrifugal self-centeredness of basic needs – restricts the capacity of the Self to relate to the Other(s). And that’s – possibly – too much of a loss as a cost of weight loss…