Book Review–Unbinding

Ever tire of the incessant chatter in the head, the mind endlessly repeating the same loops, often needlessly fearful, envious or worried about stuff that never comes to pass? In her book Unbinding, Kathleen Singh compares these thoughts to a gang of thugs, robbing us of our truest selves, who live deeply in peace with God.

Sometimes it helps to step lightly into another tradition, in this case the Buddhist. In previous books like The Grace in Living, the Grace in Aging and The Grace in Dying, Singh has been a splendid, accessible guide, often quoting the best of the Christian mystical tradition too. St. Bonaventure, for instance reminds us that we can’t view things truly unless we see “how God shines forth in them.” (p. 8) St. Teresa of Avila asks whether we pray “as if God were not present.” (p. 99) Or do we live as if God were not present?

At some level, we know that every breath is given by God, that our exquisitely designed bodies and minds are animated by God. Yet we continue to churn out a stream of anxieties (“What if I’m late? What if she doesn’t like me? Did he just look funny at me?”) as though we weren’t deeply grounded in the divine. Singh uses the word “grace” as an ecumenical reference to God or the sacred, the Great Mystery to which words can only point. Sadly we allow habitual thought patterns to create a constant illusion of separateness from this living, pulsing Source.

I cringed to recognize how I sometimes resort to blind habits—I dislike this person who reminds me of someone who mistreated me in third grade—hence “allowing some fairly untrustworthy drivers to take the wheel” (p. 117). Furthermore, crystallized thought modes prevent our seeing creatively with wonder, freshness and delight. “Bin there, done that,” we may grumble when a new opportunity presents itself. Singh compares that constricted attention to living in a house with no windows (p. 105).

Singh poses two questions that, if we pause and ask them often enough, may help move us past the mental assumptions. First, “what is really going on here?” Am I craving something I think will make me blissfully happy, even when it’s fantasy, ignoring the happiness of right here and now? Does the craving mask the longing for the divine? And, “Who is looking now, grace or self?” The “small tight knot of self” keeps us distant from grace, our birthright and delight. Just as we grow disenchanted with small talk and malls, we gradually recognize the awe and joy of “a beautiful, improvisational dance with the sacred,” free of ego’s controlling machinations—and control itself is an illusion.

Such a brief review barely does justice to a complex and compelling work. Interestingly, Singh completed this book shortly before her death—so she knew first-hand about letting go of the self’s puppet dictatorship, as we all must do in the end.