Intro - What is Real Effort
Hello to all who receive this. I have assigned myself the
task to explore how “effort” has played out in my life. That is, I am going to
make an effort to delve into effort. It appears that every being on earth must
make efforts for survival and continuity. For humans, there appears to be the opportunity
and even a call to make efforts to fulfill an even deeper human purpose as
well. I am going to select some stories from my life to see what I can learn
and share. I hope you find it useful and enjoyable.
In addition to sending emails I will put each these posts on
my website www.forevercaremediation.com.
I give full permission and actually hope that you will share
these stories with others.
Happy Reading
David Feldman
What is real effort?
# 1 – Only super efforts count
In 1975, I was 28 years old and feeling totally in the
groove, flowing with the tide. Seven
years earlier, I had ventured to Boston to find my “spiritual adventure,” and it
had come to pass. In fact, what actually occurred was far beyond what I could
have imagined. For seven years, I had been part of a focused and spirited group
of people, mainly my age group with one mentor, Cesareo. Through a series of fortunate
coincidences and good guidance, I was in my third year of law school at night,
teaching high school during the day, fully participating in our own Gurdjieff inspired
group, and had a budding romance with a wonderful girlfriend, Catherine, also a
member of the group. I did not want to be anywhere else. I did not think of
this as any kind of stepping stone to anything later. I had found my place.
Cesareo was all about focus, effort and attention. He moved
from goal to goal and considered obstacles as invitations to go beyond. He was
a Cuban immigrant who liked saying things like “only the impossible is
worthwhile.” Since I greatly admired him, I did my best to adopt this attitude.
Our group intensively studied the Gurdjieff teaching (called
the Work) and our primary book was Ouspensky’s “In Search of the Miraculous”.
In one section, Gurdjieff explains that only super efforts count. He
gives the example of a man who has walked for miles through wind and rain to
get home. He finally arrives but then chooses to go out again for another hour
to make this super effort. At the time, I understood this to mean that the
regular efforts required to meet life’s demands were not sufficient for the Work.
There needs to be a voluntary effort that is not simply to meet life’s requirements,
but for something higher than that. What specifically that something higher might
be remained unclear. Seeing Work in this way encouraged me to push myself
whenever possible -. stand when I could sit, run when I could walk, that kind
of thing.
Both Catherine and I were teachers and had our summers free.
Many of our group, maybe 30-40 people, were planning to go to a Work retreat in
the Swiss Alps, run by Michel deSalzmann, one of the leaders of the Work
internationally. Some of us had been before and it was an extraordinary experience.
We could not wait to go again. For those who could stay longer, the trip would
include Paris, Spain and Morocco as well as our time with Michel. Our group’s
main mode of exploring was by walking, often fast walking.
In keeping with my idea of making efforts, a week before we
were to go, I was jogging in the park across the street from our communal house
in Brookline. Eight of us had lived together for a year in this spacious,
elegant, six-bedroom brick Colonial on a beautiful tree-lined street in
Brookline. All was going well until I
stepped into a hole that I had not noticed and severely twisted my foot. Within
short order, the swelling in my ankle had tripled in size and Catherine and I
went to a local emergency room. White walls, quick diagnosis -badly sprained
ankle. I would need to walk on crutches and the doctor suggested rest,
elevation, ice and ibuprofen. I told him about our upcoming trip and he
suggested I might want to cancel. “Ha” I thought to myself, “that is not going
to happen”.
Catherine graciously agreed to carry “our” backpack and we
both took as little as possible. The metaphor, even at the time bothered me –
that I was causing trouble and she was carrying the weight. Fortunately for
both of us, we have now been married for 44 years and it would be fair to say
that we have both developed together and created a lasting and fulfilling
relationship.
We flew to Paris and had a week of group adventures filled
with walking. By then, I could get by with just a cane but I was slow and the
group moved quickly. Instead of my usual “obsession” with super efforts, I was
simply glad not to cause too much trouble. For example, when we went to the
Louvre and people spread out to see as much as possible, I was happy to spend
time in one or two rooms and then rejoin. I noticed that although I was less
intense about making my “efforts”, I was nicer and kinder than my usual state.
I felt really lucky to be in Europe with our group and took whatever
opportunity that presented itself to be helpful in any way I could. It was
intriguing to me that my “disability” actually enabled me to be a better human.
Our group traveled to Switzerland and gathered at a bus
station at the base of the mountain. Through very winding roads and beautiful
Swiss towns, I could hear “Climb Every Mountain” playing in my head. On arrival
at Michel’s retreat chalet, we breathed in the utterly refreshing mountain air,
and saw, once again, the simple and beautiful buildings that would be our home
for the week. It had been built and improved by all the groups coming from many
countries. It felt to me that we were part of this effort to offer something
not only to ourselves but to others we would never meet
There was one large main room in the chalet that was used
for all our indoor activities with simple re-arrangements of the furniture. Through
large glass windows we overlooked a beautiful green valley and the Matterhorn.
It was stunning indeed.
The week, which had its own lovely rhythm of meditation,
work, talks, food, and an occasional sauna was mostly over. I had many
experiences of simply feeling so lucky just to be there, to be part of this
remarkable opportunity. After a session in Feldenkrais-like exercises, sensing
and the Gurdjieff movements run by Michel’s wife, Josee, Michel appeared and
put his arms out to his sides at the level of his shoulders and invited us to
do the same. I could not use my cane and
keep my arms out at the same time, so I put the cane down and stood mostly on
my “good” foot. Michel told us to keep our arms up as long as possible but when
they came down, we were to sit down. Although he was 25 years older than most
of us, it appeared that he could keep his arms up indefinitely. He added foot
movements and turn arounds and other rhythms and little by little people put
their arms down. I hopped on one leg and found the experience of hopping very
funny. Of course, we all did our best to
keep our arms up but they became heavy by two minutes or so.
And then, really to my complete surprise, something “gave
way” in me. The pain and discomfort from holding up my arms was not important
anymore. In fact, my arms felt buoyed up as if they were being lifted by helium
balloons. It was intriguing. I felt that they were being held up without any
effort from “me.” I found myself smiling and the exercise became easy.
Eventually Michel put his arms down and the few people left put our arms down.
He asked one of our group members to bring him two glasses
and some vodka. He filled the glasses and asked the person to bring me one of
the glasses. I was really surprised. He kept the other one and raised his glass
and toasted my effort. But before I could drink it, my mouth opened, all on its
own, and I started arguing with him. I told him that it was not an effort because
it was easy and joyful. He semi-joked that if I preferred, he could take the
glass back. That snapped me out of trance and I then accepted his toast. When
the glasses were put away, he looked at me, and with a voice filled with
kindness and wisdom said, “Maybe, you now have a different idea of what a real
effort is.” His voice penetrated into my chest and my never-ending thoughts
calmed down for a few moments. I knew something was happening that I would need
to digest. I have carried that voice with me for over 45 years as I have tried
to understand and penetrate the many layers and mystery of real effort.
