Swimming With the
Dolphins
As I approached age 60 I found myself longing to have a tattoo. I was
struggling with a change in self-concept, looking for ways to define myself outside of the
expectations of others, and settled on the image of a dolphin swimming around my heart
- to
symbolize my awakening heart energy and be reminded of it every day. My children were amused, my
friends were intrigued, and I was on a high.
Then I told my
mother. I was devastated when she asked, "Why would you want to disfigure
yourself?" I'd be embarrassed to admit I felt like a child of
Six, but I know every one who reads this has had similar experiences,
challenged by the
almost insurmountable authority of social conditioning and the wish to be accepted.
This dilemma is
paramount for Enneagram
Sixes. Their early
experience is of being in some way powerless to predict where danger lies.
"Who
will punish me for being spontaneous?" "Who will laugh at one of my ideas?" "Who will
criticize me for not doing what I was 'supposed' to do?"
We all
have this concern at times, but for the Six it becomes a passion.
Many describe
the Six's passion as fear. It's really
fear of fear, a whistling in the
dark, an internal (and often unconscious) statement: "I'm not afraid! I'm
not afraid!" For some Sixes this is a Woody Allen-like parody;
for others an Evil Knieval-like counterphobic reckless courage. But both manifestations stem from deeply motivated fear, often
experienced as self-doubt and a particular kind of anxiety, an internal churning
as one of my Six clients calls it: "Am I good
enough?" "What path do I take?"
Sixes all have
a highly developed set of antennae because of their habit of hyper-vigilance, and this
brings the gift of foresight as a way to counter fear: "If I can predict
everything that could go wrong then I'll be safe." But there's a paradox involved.
When we act from the Six's perspective, we behave as if we'e powerless - and in that
moment give our power away. Further, in this world we continually
re-create, where others hold power over us, there's a desire to disempower the other:
thus the fixation of Sixes on accusation.
Unexamined
Sixes seem to be in perpetual turmoil, aware of their own anxiety, shame, or anger, but
pointing the finger outward. ("If I'm powerless it must be somebody else's fault!")
When I told my mother about my tattoo I only wanted approval, and therefore her criticism
was devastating. My first reaction was anger, and an accusation (to myself) of how
"she always, in spite of her generally loving presence, could undermine my attempts
to break the mold!"
Had I come from
my center, from my own integrity, from my Dolphin heart; had I let go of my attachment to her approval, I would have
been free of her response, perhaps touched by her own fear of change, or even
admiring of her speaking her mind. This is how I interpret the Buddhist perfection of morality:
recognizing our own contribution to situations instead of playing victim.
In
Enneagram theory the
virtue of the
Six is courage, which is consistent with morality: our compulsions maintain our delusions,
so to let go of accusing others we must have the courage to be with our own fear.
In
The
Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, Sogyal Rinpoche asks us to imagine an empty vase,
realizing the space inside is exactly the same as the space outside, separated only
by the walls of the vase. So our Buddha nature is enclosed in the walls of our ordinary,
conditioned identity. We are already there, where our hearts are, if only we cease to be
deluded that there is any separation:
Happy, they leap out of the surface of waves
...Curving, they draw curlicues and serifs with lashed tail and fin
...Images of their delight outside, displaying my heart within
...With power to wake me prisoned in my human speech they sign: 'I AM!'
Stephen
Spender,
Dolphins