My teacher has a theory about fear. He believes that every person struggles consciously with one of three main fears - rejection, abandonment or worthlessness. We all fear these three on different levels but it is the conscious fear that most dictates the way we interact with others.
This theory can be an interesting way of seeing our ego. It may seem oversimplified, but having a simple structure to work from can be helpful sometimes.
Someone who is most afraid of rejection wants others to see them completely, as they are, and accept them. Yet because the fear of being rejected is consciously experienced, they might hide from others and be afraid to show their true self. Or they might reject others as a defense mechanism.
Someone who is consciously afraid of abandonment wants to be connected to those around them, to feel in control of the connection so they won't feel alone. Yet because this fear of being abandoned is consciously experienced, they never really trust the connection and take any difference of feeling or any loss of control as a personal threat.
Someone who is consciously afraid of being worthless wants to feel valued by the people around them. They want to feel that they have something to offer - information, a gift or some function they can perform that others will appreciate. Yet because they focus on what they do or what they bring to a situation, they rarely feel that they as an individual are worthy just as they are.
During zen workshops, people identified with one of these three fears and split into groups. It was really funny and interesting to see the way we each saw or labeled our own conscious fear and those of others. The rejection fear group were often labeled as loners or abrasive jerks. The abandonment fear group were dubbed control freaks or manipulative. The worthless fear group were seen as know-it-alls or workaholics.
Which brings me of course, to Jean-Paul Sarte. In his play, No Exit, three characters are confined to share a room for eternity. Each of them triggers the ego of another person in the room, causing the famous line - 'hell is other people'.
I don't remember if I attended a workshop on the three fears or read this play first. They are completely enmeshed in my memory. I am laughing as I write this because I'm sure it seems like an odd reference to make regarding a zen workshop. Yet divided into three groups, each spoke of their conscious fear quite openly and the others reacted quite obviously from theirs.
The abandonment group talked about just wanting to be close to people, yet the way they expressed it completely terrified or annoyed the rejection group who experienced the abandonment group's need for control over a connection or a shared way of being/experiencing/feeling to be a rejection of their individual self/experience.
In turn, the abandonment group felt disconnected and confused by the rejection group's need for space and autonomy.
Meanwhile, the worthless fear group were trying to understand the whole situation so they could offer some valuable insight or figure out what action could be performed to set things to rights. The rejection group tended to make them feel worthless by judging or rejecting their ideas/functions/offerings and the abandonment group made them feel like they had to constantly offer proof of connection, and wanting to have a clear task set for them so they could complete it perfectly, they grew frustrated by the vague concept the abandonment group seem to have about what they needed.
On the other side, the abandonment group was frustrated by the worthless group's way of offering functions or information instead of feelings and the rejection group felt that what the worthless group offered wasn't individual or personal because they put so much emphasis on what was correct or perfect or wanted by others.
This Sarte-like zen workshop is a great example of the idea of shared reality I wrote about in my last post. Each of the characters in No Exit, like each of the groups in the workshop, had their own ego fear which in large part created their individual reality. When we are locked in this reality and experiencing our conscious fear, hell truly can be other people. We see them as threats to this fear or as people to banish this fear FOR us. We interact in ways that will protect us or make us feel accepted, connected or worthy. And since the people we are interacting with have their own egos and their own realities, we can become slaves in a sense to these fears.
Luckily the zen workshop ended better than the Sarte play. After the initial ego bouts of each fear, we reached a point where we were compassionate enough with and aware enough of our own fear to recognize that the way others acted really had nothing to do with us but with their own fear. And once we stopped taking their actions/perceptions personally, we were able to see their fear with compassion.
At this point, the zen workshop again resembled what you might think a buddhist gathering might look like. There was a shared reality where everyone was saying what they were experiencing and it was accepted by the others, who were sharing what they were experiencing. It seemed like the key point in creating this shared reality was recognizing that our egos could go on for eternity trying to be sated by or protected from other people. But they never would be.
But that the shared reality offered a different kind of connection than the ones we had been striving for from a place of fear. Yet in order to participate in the shared reality, we had to take ownership of our conscious fear and try to understand and heal it ourselves instead of wearing it like broken limb for others to bandage or re-injure.
