Who is the better judge of what happened in a situation – the person who was in the midst of it or the person who was observing from a distance?
Writing about the psychology of the concentration camp, Frankl takes note of the distortion that takes place by people immersed in the experience as opposed to those who can see from outside what went on there. He makes this observation to express a certain degree of reservation about his recording of his personal impressions.
I would argue to the contrary. Being there inside of what’s happening affords a depth of understanding and perception that standing from the outside does not bring, even if an outside vantage point allows you to see more of the picture.
To the extent that you are fully open and immersed in your experience, you will naturally move from that place of intense experiencing to a perspective of detachment.
Frankl, like others had to numb himself somewhat, but he was as open as he could possibly be to his experience, and this is precisely what allowed him to report objectively about it with such accuracy.
This is what makes Man’s Search for Meaning, as extreme as the situation was, a book about the universal human condition. Anyone who suffers goes through phases that might be seen in light of the phases he describes: a) reception shock, during which they felt a line was drawn through their former life, b) profound apathy which lead to a primitive focus on only urgent needs and just getting through the day, and c) liberation.
Regardless of the particular kind of suffering one is in, liberation comes only by being present for it, not by fighting what is not in your control. The situation might remain exactly as it was but your relationship to it will change.
This overcoming of suffering by facing it head-on reminds me of a song my brother and I used to sing when we were small. “So low, you can’t get under it. So high, you can’t get over it. So wide, you can’t get around it. Gotta go through the door.”
There’s no other way to move past suffering but to go right through it by allowing it to be, not by pretending it’s something else. Paradoxically your feelings change by validating them as they are now. Similarly, you change as a result of accepting yourself as you are now.
This idea that ‘presence’ paves the way for ‘movement’ extends to all kinds of experience.
For example, a section of music is called a ‘movement.’ It moves from one kind of feeling to another. My son (who is a musician) related to me an experience he had recently. During a concert he gave, he managed to have one of those rare experiences of being so immersed in the music that he felt changed by it.
The world seemed to be a more beautiful place after he played the music than it had been before. This wasn’t because he had been playing happy, uplifting tunes. There were also sad or contemplative melodies. What caused the music to move him was his full immersion in it.
We are creatures of aliveness and movement. We’re not meant to desperately hang on to happiness no matter what. What stagnates is dead. Anything that is alive is in a state of motion. Being present for real feelings in the realness of the moment will naturally and inevitably make way for different feelings.
At the same time, there is another type of movement.
At moments of despair, Viktor Frankl deliberately shifted his thoughts elsewhere and visualized his wife smiling at him. He called this ‘dereflection.’
There is a kind of mediation that strengthens this ability. One of the goals of Raja Yoga meditation is to take charge of your thoughts. With self-mastery, you can more easily guide your mind and redirect it to go from one train of thought to another.
As Rabbi Avraham Isaac Hacohen Kook says in Orot Hakodesh (Vol III p. 275 “A time to be quiet and a time to speak”), it’s important to know when is the right time to speak and when is the right time to be silent. When silence is given its space, it later has its say.
Taking charge, I know which kind of movement is called for, when. Should I be present for my thoughts and emotions or should I be directing my thoughts elsewhere? This too is a choice.
On the other hand, maybe dereflection, or shifting one’s focus to other thoughts is not even a different kind of movement, distinct from the non-directed movement that flows naturally from being present for your emotions.
That is, perhaps deliberately taking charge of your thoughts is not a movement away from being present for your feelings but is rather a movement towards greater presence for your eternal soul.
I am a soul; I have a body. If I am present for this awareness, then in the midst of a difficult situation where negativity abounds, I won’t even need to validate my anger or frustration and move through my acknowledgment of real emotions but instead will be present for the love, purity, joy and wisdom in my innermost being, and this will have a profound impact on myself and the people around me.
It’s a different presence – not only for the realness of my feelings but also for the spiritual realities in front of and within me.