Just when I thought I started noticing a soft glow of a halo forming around my head, toying with the idea that I was actually becoming a more balanced person – bang! – a major revelation: this is all B.S, I am full of B. S.
As it happens, I now notice more of the “bad” stuff than before: I see the reactivity of the mind even in between major reactions (before empathizing with someone I can notice a sensation of inner satisfaction showing its ugly head even for just a split second); I notice how enormously self-interested I am and how I keep getting stuck in the same places whenever my precious ego feels threatened or hurt no matter how decisive I am about getting unstuck. In a way, there are more opportunities now to get stuck in some of those emotions as more of them are brought onto the surface by increasing self-awareness. It’s like looking in the mirror and seeing more of the self than I noticed before and boy it is not a pretty sight! The challenge is to not identify with this new old stuff, see it as what it is and not judge. Somewhat surprisingly, it is easier for me to accept others do it than see myself in this sutuation which I interpret as a sign of arrogance: I should be perfect while the others don’t have to be. This time the ego feels hurt also because it sort of did not succeed in overriding itself!
I heard of this part of the process; still it was somewhat of a shock to see how little I sometimes need to fly off the handle and how hard it is to notice it, label it and and put behind.
The aftertaste of this particular conversation when the person just in a matter of a few seconds pressed all the right buttons made me realise just how wrong I was believing I did not expect any gains from the practice yet hoping it would help me become a better person. Yet I cannot imagine not having any intention or any expectations whatsoever. Something does drive us to practice, for example is not the willingness to get rid of suffering not a motive in itself?
Isn’t ending suffering a process of learning that you are perfectly you in every moment. That there is nothing to gain. That there can be an end to always wanting your life to be different to what it is right now. What more motivation could you want?
The fact that your life may change as a result of this is secondary.
I’d like to think I have nothing against change (till the train is late!).
Is not “perfect” in itself a label of the discriminative language just as “imperfect” is? At least for myself, at this point I can only see one through the other: to get that I am “perfect” I sometimes have to notice how “imperfect” I am and accept it as … “perfect”? Does this make sense?
Being able to notice that you are imperfect means that one part of you is judging another part of you, which is a form of conflict. I think this is one of the reasons zazen is so important. It provides a space in which you see these judgemental thoughts for what they are – habitual ways of thinking which never really change anything and which just give you a comforting illusion of control over yourself and your life. It is a slow process for me but the dropping of these thoughts as a result of regular zazen does seem to be happening. My life does seem to have become more open and more trusting in my fundamental nature.
Intro,
Thank you for sharing about your practice. I fully agree with you that zazen is helpful in identifying those mental formations we call thoughts and choose to identify with. I have noticed a huge difference in how much faster I drop thoughts. I guess some individual perks are easier to drop than others. Attachment to being a certain way – say a “good” friend or a “perfect” host – are my perks that I have more trouble dealing with than with others. It just takes time, I guess and taking one “imperfection” at a time.
What I meant in my previous reply to you that even “perfect” is a judgement in itself. If I realise that then there is nothing left – just what it is. More open and trusting life sounds like a healthy way to go.
Gassho,
Irina