If your soul feels split, it is not the soul you are dealing with. The soul exists in one form only, and it is utterly indivisible, cut off from no thing and no one. It is never confused.
Similarly there is only one direction the soul is ever seeking to move, and that is into a fuller, clearer version of itself. Once you begin taking steps in true alignment with the soul, you are embarking on a voyage that begets only more fullness, more clarity, and more certainty. Over time all doubt dissolves. There is no end to this inward travel when it is undertaken sincerely.
It is like this: Perhaps in a moment of courage you decide to part from the familiar world and set out onto the ocean of yourself. You float out on a raft, but it is not an adequate vessel. The raft deflates; your clothing shreds; you shiver and gulp back saltwater and then the ocean of yourself hurls you off the edge of the Earth. In this space, you are adrift within incomprehensible dimensions, perhaps trying to broadcast what you’re witnessing to those still on shore. They will not be able to decipher your words, and they may call you crazy. Perhaps a few will understand what you mean, but you’re not likely to see them again. Two people who wish to teach their common language to the world won’t waste much time speaking to each other.
You know from the stories that there must be something good in the end, and I assure you that there is. It is the Truth, and it is so good that I feel foolish even trying to use words for it. Maybe, if you’re new to the path, you want to know if there is a way to sidestep the near-drowning and the insanity to get to this thing that is beyond good. My unsettling answer is I don’t know. The path will have more challenges than you can currently fathom, that much is sure, but each person requires a unique treatment before they see what is Real.
For me, catastrophe was necessary. I cannot say what will be necessary for you.
The soul does not pine for particular people or things, but for itself, forever and ever. In its infinite knowing, it does always gravitate towards those people and situations which deepen its awareness of itself in some way. The lovers you can’t explain, the habits you can’t drop, the patterns you keep repeating… there is an unconscious game being played here. The soul always knows what it is doing and exactly how the game will end, even if you don’t.
Couched within all of your unconsciousness, there is a narrow passageway of supreme consciousness, the heights of which will put your mind to shame. This is where the soul dwells; this is what the soul is. It calls the shots whether you like it or not, and its only concern is guiding you towards It. It has no regard for how you think life should go, what you think is right, or what your plans were. All of these things are meaningless without a commitment to what is true. The fully conscious soul is what moves you, through layers and layers of pain and paradox, just waiting for the moment when you will discover it. And you will discover it. There is no grand scheme other than this divine hide-and-seek.
If you’re not sure what you want out of life—or if getting what you want brings stress and emotional pain—it is because you’re letting your mind run the show instead of your soul. This is the default way to “live,” by the way, even when one considers themself to be spiritual. “Live” in is quotations because I have learned that when we behave according to the whims and apparitions of the conditioned mind, it is not living. It is madness.
Sometimes in spirituality it may seem as if we’re speaking negatively of “the mind” or of “thinking.” After all the point of meditation is to still and settle the constant swarm of thoughts. Such thoughts cloud us up without our say so. In no time we’re drowning, and this drowning looks like neurotic attachment, chronic depression, self- and other-abuse, extreme confusion, emotional paralysis, boredom, numbness, and anything else internally unpleasant. Outside of the being, we see the related behaviors that, when taken together, create the mess we see around us.
This is why it is necessary for the soul to consciously preside over the mind. At present, we live in backwards fashion: For the vast majority, the semi-conscious mind is allowed to preside over the soul. This has been going on for a long time. We keep looking for answers in this state of half-consciousness, but this is like trying to build a home with a shovel. As long as this mind is the most common mind, complete extinction is assured. Space exploration is pointless and immature if there are still children starving to death on our planet.
We do not mean to discourage critical thought or asking, not at all. On the contrary: These are the best functions of the mind. Meditation is about the simple recognition of the fact that the mind, when not viewed from a safe distance, creates great suffering within us and in others. As always, the quality of one’s life depends heavily on what they identify with, what they see themselves as. Abiding as Truth—as formless, clear, dynamic emptiness—the mind is a boon. Here is where we say what needs to be said and do what needs to be done. Here the mind is a pocketknife and you the deft outdoorsman.
When we make the mistake of believing we are the mind, we step immediately into hostile territory. That is because the mind is not solid. This generator of thoughts is itself a thought. In essence, what we are doing is mistaking ourselves for a passing mist. No wonder we tend to live so vacantly: We have not yet accepted that we are real and alive, because the thing we think we are is not ultimately real.
The practice of meditation exists to create a gap between your soul and your mind. After all, the mind is meant to be a tool. It should exist in service to the real You, not the phantom-you. Learning to look at your mind from a distance is like the difference between sitting in a traffic jam and being in an airplane, looking down on said traffic jam. The former brings with it frustration and stress. The latter is fine, perhaps even a bit cute.
As I said in my last post, honest questions—those that are asked not with the goal of validation or “for the sake of argument”—are a sign of humility. When we are curious and thirsty for Truth, we admit we are still in process. This is beautiful, for there is no greater obstacle to realizing the Truth than believing you already have it.
In any case, “having” can never be a word that describes one’s relationship to Truth. You can have a religious belief, but you cannot have Truth. Possession is something that occurs in this physical world, within our psyches, and yet it is illusory. Everything you falsely believe is yours will dissolve at once in death. If you find this depressing, it is only because you do not yet know yourself. The moment of death, whether met with ecstasy or extreme fear, is when we discover what is truly “ours.”
And because possession is illusory, it has no place in the spiritual life. Many sages and buddhas are quite happy to have Nothing at all. Relinquishing possessions and worldly items is not done for the sake of nobility—indeed they understand that there is truly nothing they are giving up. They are happiest with very little, for their bodies alone are made of unending verses. They are like fruit trees that are always in season: No matter how much they get rid of, more comes back. What they “have,” you cannot take, even if you were to kill them. In the soul, riches flow with such abundance that material items actually become burdensome. This is the glory that awaits us all. In fact, it is already here.