A response about Love

I recieved an email from someone who asked about love. This was probably the hardest thing to come to terms with, and indeed impossible for "me." The search damn well does not feel like love, or even "like." It feels like crap, most of the time. To hear people speak about unconditional love that embraces everything, including the search, is maddening. Unfortunately for me, these people were absolutely on the money. The love is always there, on the sidelines maybe, but still there. It wrote this sentence, and read it as well. It sought for itself, and found that it never left. It gave up on the inquiry, and got drunk instead. Love yells at the teacher who patiently points to Home. Love forgives the seeker, for it IS the seeker. There is nothing that it is not. This is yet another potentially frustrating message. All I can say is, "where is this one who doubts unconditional love?" Where is this seeker, who feels as though this is not the beloved? I was asked to look for this person, who feels so isolated, seperate, and unworthy of the Lover. It could not be found, and it was the lover who was looking, pretending, seeking, finding, and all the rest of it. There could only ever be That anyway, so perhaps some relaxation is in order.

Advaita Paparazzi

During the search, I looked at those who expressed the message clearly as celebrities to be imitated. I saw my friend Charlie sharing on youtube and thought: "I wanna be just like him!" I went to a residential with Tony Parsons in Germany, and followed him around to try to absorb his enlightenment energy. It felt like being part of the advaita paparazzi, talking with others about how great this teacher was, telling tales of wonder about being with these people and trying to get a piece of their apparent "success."

When the spiritual search got started, all the previous conditioning went into it. So even when the message that "there is no one" came through, I turned that to mean, "I know there is no one, therefore I am enlightened." Those non-selves seemed so much happier than me, and overall just better, so I pretended to be like "them." I tried imitating the mannerisms of my favourite teachers, thinking about how they would react in certain situations. "How can I act enlightened in this scenario?" I sucked up to those that shared this message, trying to gain approval and encouragement on my path. "Please, Mr. Advaita Man, give me something I can call my own."
Those that were honest would have none of this crap. There were no celebrities to be made special by my paparazzi act, just honest expressions dedicated to dispelling my illusions. I thank them for their unwillingess to budge, and for not buying into my fanciful advaita stories.

Don't give up, just surrender

During the search, there were times when I just gave up. By this, I mean that I said "screw this, there's nothing I can do, I might as well..." (get drunk, mope around, kill myself) The spiritual concept of surrender, on the other hand, is a collapse of the one who could either give up, or keep going. Of course, the notion of surrender implies one who could surrender of their own volition. (And why wouldn't I have surrendered yesterday!) But rather than a volitionary thing, surrender merely points to what is, as it already is. Surrender is the seeing that what is, can't be meddled with. Giving up is being at war with what is, and trying to justify a miserable existance. The paradox of surrender is that it's the end of the one who thinks they could either choose, or not. Of course, if there's the belief in a "me", it will not want surrender, since that is the end of it. Giving up, on the other hand, is a great way to keep "me" going. Instead of listening to competent pointing, I indulged my suffering and my inability to do anything, "since there's no self to do it." Instead of looking within, I settled for moments of pleasure. Rather than earnestly inquire as was suggested, I hoped things would resolve themselves "someday." Suffering was the only honest teacher I had, when I rejected the pointers of the ones that I knew deep down were trustworthy. My suffering was directly proportional to the ammount of my own bullshit I believed. No bullshit=no suffering. Surrender is the natural state of what is, rather than a task to be undertaken. Giving up is a popular tactic of the "me-sense", and can keep the search going indefinitely.

No way out, no way in

When I started looking into this whole enlightenment business, I felt like a poor man looking for a way into the rich man's house. I saw these people speaking about liberation, and I wanted to join the club. In addition to that, I wanted OUT of my present circumstances. When I phoned my friend Charlie Hayes, he told me something like "you can't get into it, and you can't get out of it." This started to remove the idea of a special state for "me" to dwell in, with all the other enlightened people that I was sure existed. (lol, in retrospect!) It also facilitated the seeing that the state that was presently arising, (thoughts, emotions, or whatever,) was not something to get out of or be rid of. Again and again it was hammered into the brain that the trouble lies in the "me" concept, rather than not being in the correct state of consciousness or having the right circumstances present. In the search, I felt like Houdini, a sort of escape artist with all sorts of tricks up my sleeve. Everytime a pointer tried to hit home, the "me" seemingly built up a safe house for itself, and tried to lock itself in. When good times came, it tried to stay in them and keep the good times rolling. When bad times hit, it tried to run for the hills, and push everything away. It tried to get into "enlightenment" and away from "suffering" both of which were concepts that it seemingly defined for itself. Of course, to speak of this "me" as though it is an entity with self volition is erroneous. The process I described suggest a sort of enemy, the bad "me" who's running from the Truth. Actually, the 'me' is the truth in fancy clothes, parading for itself for its own enjoyment. Since there's no in, and no out, this right here is it. Houdini tried to hide, but he had locked himself up into what he was running from!

Meaninglessness- Depression or Freedom?

One day I woke up, and realized that my life was totally meaningless, and would never ammount to anything. Not surprisingly, this gave rise to a lot of depression and despair. My antidote to this was to create some meaning in my life to feel better in the short term. Unfortunately, the best meaning I found was to try to do more drugs in order to glaze over the sense of lack and limitation at the centre of my being. As was pointed out later by my first teacher Charlie Hayes, the trouble was that I had made it mean something that my life was meaningless. Furthermore, there was still a belief in "my life" as some sort of seperate thing that needed to be micro-managed and somehow dealt with properly. When distractions and sidetracking myself no longer worked, I began looking more deeply into my experience. Instead of trying to make myself feel better, I just kept staring into myself, and there was a deconstruction of the concepts that seemed so real before. Meaninglessness is actually absolute freedom. There's no longer the sense that things are going anywhere, my life is a sort of resting as what is. There's no reason I woke up today, and there's no reason for anything that gets done in the appearance of the world. What is, is enough, and it means nothing. Paradise is the end of an impossible search, which was never really happening. My life never meant anything, but life itself needs no meaning.

Love? That can't be it!

Growing up as a young man (apparently) I developed an aversion to the word "love," and what I thought it meant. I wanted to be tough, fearless, and self-sufficient, and in no need of something as tender and mysterious as love. When my seeking really got going, the last thing I would have thought to look for would be love, but I couldn't ignore the ache deep down, that no self-endeavour could fulfill. This turned me onto religion, and I sought the love of God, who I felt was withholding the full extent of his love for when I became worthier. The unconditional love that is pointed to here and in nonduality writings elsewhere is far simpler and far more frightening to the individual than any conception of it I had before. When this was first encountered, there was a seeing that this would be the end of "me", and everything I thought was important. There was no God to please, and no one to please him. No other to fulfill my needs, and no person here who needs fulfillment. All is this love, even the things I judged unworthy in my ignorance and arrogance. This love doesn't demand anything, nor does it bow to my every whim. It is not the clingy, watered-down version I was accustomed to, it is pure and open, like the blazing sun, yet tender as a warm breeze. It's the most cliched word in our culture, and yet we all yearn for it. I didn't find love, because I am love. There's nothing more to say about it, the lover is more obvious than the backs of my hands as they type this. I didn't think love could be it, now I don't know what love can't be!

Let's get my life working (please?)

Come on world, why aren't I happy? Do your job and make me feel better, already. Please, just let my life work. I'll tell you what, I'll give you this, this and this, if you make everything OK for me. No? Alright, now I'm mad, so I'm going to take those things away, until you make me whole again. Now I'm too tired and frustrated to deal with you, world, so I'm done with you. I don't need you to make things work, I can find the answer myself. I'll just shut myself away, and ignore that nagging feeling in the back of my mind. Damnit world, I said to leave me alone! Why are you still coming at me? I can't deal with you today, come back tomorrow. Who knew that the annoying, persistant world of circumstances was actually the lover in disguise? Who kept missing the pokes and jabs of the beloved, and mistaking them for some personal vendetta? Who am I, that needs to make my life work, if Life is already in perfect working order. (Despite what thoughts about "me" might say!)

So much goes into trying to make my life better, or get it working properly. With all that effort and struggle, we miss the perfect harmony that's already reading this word. I haven't missed my opportunity, I am the opportunity itself. The world doesn't have the answer, I am the world and need no answer to be who I am. There is no world coming at me, and no "me" to come at. All is seamless wonder, and I am That. No need to get life working, dont' fix what ain't broken.