By Mark Kutolowski
I was only twenty years old, yet I felt like my life was over. It was 5 PM, and the city of Cambridge was totally dark except the glow of streetlights and traffic. I shuffled my feet slowly over the grey slush along Kennedy Street. My heart weighed heavy in my chest. My girlfriend of two and a half years had broken up with me a week earlier. Three months before that I’d lost my spot on the college hockey team – this was my first winter without competitive hockey since I was five. I’d just finished another day at my unpaid internship, where I arrived before dawn and left after dusk, only seeing daylight through the office windows.
As a continued to plod towards the bus station, I stopped along the bridge overlooking the Charles River. I could see little chunks of white ice floating atop the immense darkness of the river. I felt a strange, almost magnetic attraction to the water. The dark felt comfortable, familiar. I stared at the water for several minutes. I felt a constriction in my throat, as if I were trying to force down a rising fountain of sadness. Then, the thought came – I can be free, all I have to do is step over the railing and push off…
Wait, what?! – another part of my mind screamed. I looked up, around, as if snapped out of hypnosis. I felt the cold wind on my skin, and could see the lights and cars clearly again. I turned my feet away from the railing, and jogged to the bus station without looking back.
From Eight Thoughts to Seven Deadly Sins
Several people have commented on the ‘Seven Deadly Sins’ while reading this series on the eight thoughts. There is a close connection between the two teachings. As we mentioned in Purifying the Heart, the teaching on the eight thoughts emerged from the early Christian monks and nuns of the 3rd, 4th and 5th century deserts of Egypt, Palestine and Syria. About two hundred years later in 590 AD, Pope Gregory the Great developed the framework of the ‘Seven Cardinal Sins’, so called because they were the basic sins that were the source for all other misdeeds. Gregory based his teaching on the eight thoughts of the desert, but combined Dejection and Acedia into Sloth, considered Vainglory a subset of Pride, and added Envy to the list. This list of seven became commonly known as the seven deadly sins, and has remained a common Christian teaching ever since.
We’re doing this series on the ‘eight thoughts’ of the desert monastics rather than the ‘seven deadly sins’ because we believe it is a more subtle and useful teaching for those seeking spiritual transformation. The teaching on the seven sins, at least as we have encountered it, tends to emphasize the ‘sin’ when it has already taken hold of the heart. This is when it is likely to manifest into action that is harmful to both self and others. In contrast, the desert monastics taught their disciples to recognize the arising of thoughts at their earliest emerging from consciousness. They taught that the negative thoughts that emerged were relatively powerless at this point, and that it is possible to release the thought before it lodges more deeply in awareness. Once a thought has been identified with, they taught, it becomes much stronger. With further identification, it can develop into a full-blown passion, when the energy of the ‘thought’ drives the person into its service and overwhelms any other function of the mind. Lust can ripen into exploitation and rape, Anger into abuse and murder, Dejection into suicide, and Pride into despotism. Through learning to identify the patterns and tendencies of each of the eight negative thoughts, it is possible to release them from consciousness early in their arising, with much less struggle. While it requires discipline and conscious training, cultivating awareness of the eight thoughts can lead to substantial freedom from the oppressive forces without the more dramatic wrestling with negative emotions and drives after they are more fully established in our hearts.
Afflictions of the Psyche
In the desert teaching, the first three thoughts of Gluttony, Lust, and Greed all relate to self-centered thought patterns connected to basic needs of the body. Next, the teaching progresses to thought patterns rooted in the emotions and psyche, Dejection and Anger.[1] In considering the desert teachings on Dejection and Anger, it’s essential to remember that these teachings are meant for spiritual disciples who have already attained a basic degree of psychological integration and maturity, and who are moving forward to the more subtle and demanding task of ‘putting on the mind of Christ.’[2] At this point, God is the center of one’s being and awareness rather than the private, psychological self. This advanced spiritual work offers the possibility of substantial freedom from the domination of any emotion, and the experience of resting in God as a new baseline consciousness. In this state, emotions still come and go, but it is similar to the rising of waves on an ocean, with our awareness stably resting in the ocean of Divine Love.
This distinction is critical because, when taken superficially, the teachings on Dejection and Anger could be viewed as: ‘don’t be sad’ or ‘don’t be mad.’ If we see these as teachings about rejecting and repressing the emotions of sadness or anger, we will grow very little. Repressing emotions can do damage, stagnating vital energy in the psyche that, over time, can manifest as stress disorders or physical disease. We do not grow in spiritual freedom by rejecting these (or any) emotions when they are present. However, when we can allow these energies to rise and subside in consciousness without feeding or becoming attached to them, they become greatly reduced in their ability to draw us away from abiding in conscious awareness of God.[3]
The practice of the Welcoming Prayer is a powerful tool for prayerfully responding to afflictive emotions.[4] The essence of the Welcoming Prayer is to ‘feel our feelings’ by noticing them in the body as a felt sensation, welcoming their presence, and then letting them go. I believe the Welcoming Prayer is a great response to use once powerful feelings have already ‘ripened’ in our being. The practice helps to free us from the grip of the emotion or ‘passion’ once it has already taken hold. In my perspective, the Welcoming Prayer is a good ‘intermediate’ level spiritual practice in learning to bring our emotions into relationship with prayer and growing freedom in God. The desert teachings on Dejection and Anger are an ‘advanced’ practice in that they train the mind to release the energy of the thought before it has ripened to the point of manifesting as an afflictive emotion or significant body sensation. Of course, we can use both of these tools in our prayer life. With time and continued practice, however, the need for an intervention like the Welcoming Prayer can gradually decrease as thoughts are released earlier in their development.
The Spirit of Dejection
The root of the word dejection means ‘to be thrown down,’[5] and this is a good image of the effect of this spirit on our souls. Dejection pulls us downward, inward, and depresses or flattens out our energy. It is like a fog descending over our awareness, clouding our ability to perceive anything else. It is the energy of sadness, but a particular type of sadness that is linked to the refusal to accept our present reality and the inability to see a way out. When afflicted by the full-blow passion of dejection, life feels helpless and hopeless, and we may begin to question whether it is worth living. As I experienced on the bridge over the Charles River, thoughts of suicide may become attractive. While the first three thoughts of Gluttony, Lust, and Greed all have a quality of grasping for an excess, the thought of Dejection has a quality of loss, emptiness, and absence. In this state, it is impossible to feel the presence of God, who is the superabundant fullness of life. We lose access to the trusting vulnerability of faith, the open-hearted cheer of hope, and the warmth of love.
Both Evagrius and Cassian teach that thoughts of dejection can arise when we do not get what we want. When the ego is frustrated from obtaining its desires, sadness arises. This can also occur when we remember good things or circumstances we once possessed but no longer have, or when we cannot see the prospect of obtaining our desires in the future. When we remain identified solely with our ego, this sadness can quickly lead to dejection. Anger may also arise when the ego is frustrated, and Evagrius and Cassian also note that dejection frequently follows anger. They also teach of a possible third source, when sadness arises seeming without external cause.
Dejection, Mourning, and Compunction
Not all sadness is dejection. Dejection is the experience of sadness linked with ego and a resistance to the reality of the present moment. There are also two soulful expressions of sadness that are considered spiritual gifts in Christian tradition – mourning and compunction.
Mourning is sadness at present reality coupled with acceptance. Unlike dejection, mourning carries with it a lively, awake feeling. Sadness moves through a person, often accompanied by the kind of tears that leave our heart feeling freer after they are shed. This is the type of sadness referred to in the second beatitude, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Mourning means fully feeling our feeling, accepting what is, and opening to the fullness of life, even when it includes sadness and tears. It is a doorway to life and renewal, whereas dejection leads to constriction and despair.
Compunction is the sadness from realizing our own failings in the light of God’s goodness and mercy. It is the stirring of conscience, calling to awareness the places where we have done harm to others or ourselves. We can only fully see this harm when we have some access to God’s love and forgiveness. When we see both God’s mercy and our failings, the tears that follow are cleansing and healing. They lead to a deepening of humility, compassion for others, and trust in God’s grace and forgiveness. This is what the Christian monastic tradition calls ‘the gift of tears,’ and it was a state that the ancient monks eagerly sought. The tears of compunction are a natural part of the self-emptying that is at the heart of following Christ.
Remedies for Dejection
The desert tradition offers a number of strategies to gain freedom from dejection. The primary practices are 1) not attaching to the thought when it arises, and 2) unconditional acceptance of the reality or situation causing the dejection (which transforms the sadness from dejection to mourning). Beyond these ultimate goals, the tradition suggests several other remedies:
Not isolating: The inward movement of dejection easily lends to cutting oneself off from others. By staying in community, the isolating, narrowing quality of dejection is confronted and contradicted.
The Love of Community: More than any other of the eight thoughts, dejection is countered by the response of the community around the afflicted person. It is the community’s responsibility to keep drawing the person suffering from dejection out of their shell and into the warmth of relationship. Even when the person seems to reject the help of others, it is their job to keep loving, inviting and including them.
Doing good for others: Serving others also contradicts the self-isolating nature of dejection, weakening its influence on the soul.
Sticking to routine no matter what: Under the influence of dejection, there is frequently the temptation to drop out of formerly meaningful activities, and to withdraw from life. Keeping one’s routine, even when it feels meaningless, limits the power of the pattern to take over.
Naming and letting go of the attachment: Since dejection typically takes root in the soul following the frustration of a desire, clearly identifying, naming, and letting go of the attachment can release the dejection from the soul.[6]
Remembering the Uncreated Light: Finally, Cassian suggests the remedy of remembering the glory of heaven as the supreme remedy for dejection. Whatever emotion or circumstance that afflicts us is temporary, the joy of union with God is unending. By turning all our attention towards divine glory, we can pull our mind free of the downward weight of dejection. His advice calls to mind the words of Saint Paul, “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared with the glory to be revealed for us.”[7] The Orthodox term ‘the uncreated light’ refers to the divine glory which is God’s, but also dwells within the heart of those bearing Christ. I find it a useful term in relation to this teaching of Cassian. I have experienced this divine light shining within my own heart. I am not always aware of it, but even in the times when I don’t directly experience this light I can recall its presence in my memory. When I do so, I am instantly re-affirmed that my joy, my peace, and my security lie in this light of God which cannot be taken away by circumstances. This provides a perfect cure for dejection, which can only take hold in my soul when I am attached to some particular outcome in the world. By aligning with the eternal, I am freed from the tyranny of any particular worldly circumstance, or any particular passing emotional state.
I think I’m partial to this last remedy of Cassian, because it is how I was set free from dejection back at age 20, along with the love and prayers of a community of faith. I continued to battle thoughts and feelings of dejection for weeks after my scare on the bridge over the Charles River. On one Saturday afternoon when I was in acute distress, I decided to go for a run through the streets of Brookline. I didn’t have a set route in mind, but instead I followed my gut and just kept running. I ended up running by a sign for ‘Holy Trinity Orthodox Monastery.’ Curious, I stepped into an open gate and found a parklike sanctuary of carefully groomed trees. As I wandered the grounds, a monk robed in a black cassock came over and introduced himself. After a lengthy conversation, he invited me to stay for their evening Vespers. Being a good Catholic boy, I figured I would stay for the ½ hour service, and then jog home. At the service, I was dazzled by the dozens of golden icons spread throughout the chapel, each with several beeswax tapers lit before them. About an hour and a half into the service, it occurred to me that the monks were just getting started! At midnight, the service finished. By that time, I had been immersed in chant, incense, and prayers in Greek and English for six hours. During those hours, a light began to arise within my heart, matching the light of the candles and the icons. I lost myself in the mystery and wonder of the worship, and in doing so dejection lost its grip on my heart. I still didn’t have my girlfriend back, I had still lost my spot on the hockey team, but somehow none of that mattered much anymore. I was re-rooted in a bigger, greater reality. I spent the night at the monastery, attended the Sunday Divine Liturgy (a mere three hours long), ate a fellowship meal, and then was given an icon print by the brothers before leaving. I ran home, with the icon in a paper bag under my arm, and a light and joy in my heart that cast out all sadness.
[1] The final three thoughts, Acedia, Vainglory and Pride, are considered afflictions of the spirit. Thus the list of eight thoughts progresses from Body to Soul (or Psyche) to Spirit. Evagrius Ponticus and John Cassian both list the eight thoughts in this general order, with Evagrius listing Dejection before Anger, and Cassian placing Anger before Dejection.
[2] I Corinthians 2:16
[3] In our time, medical experts often link depression to chemical imbalance in the brain, and treat the condition through pharmaceuticals. I’ve also read significant research linking depressive states with nutritional deficiency. Exploring these phenomena, and the possible relationship between the ancient teaching on dejection and the modern medical diagnosis of depression goes beyond the scope of this post.
[4] While the initial Welcoming prayer literature focuses on afflictive emotions, Cynthia Bourgeault rightly points out that the practice can be used just as affectively with attachment to positive feelings (for example, giddiness or elation).
[5] from Latin deject- ‘thrown down’, from the verb deicere, from de- ‘down’ + jacere ‘to throw’. From the New Oxford American Dictionary
[6] “The man who flees from all worldly pleasures is an impregnable tower before the assaults of the demon of dejection.” – Evagrius Ponticus, The Practikos, 19
[7] Romans 8:18
32 degrees and drizzly here on the first day of March
This post is part of the ongoing series:
Purifying the Heart: What the Desert Teachers Can Teach Us About Healing Ourselves And Our World
Through the season of Lent, we are posting a series of reflections based on the teachings of the desert fathers and mothers. Each week we are highlighting one of the ‘eight thoughts’ of the desert system of inner transformation. In this series, we’re drawing on a deep well of ancient wisdom from an era and culture very different from our own, so it requires some translating. Read the introduction here.