Awakening, Consciousness, Reality, Spirituality

Releasing the Need to be “Understood”

I have begun the slow process of emptying my apartment of its things. My last day of waiting tables will be Dec. 31st, which feels fitting and practical. I’m getting really excited, and I really don’t feel as anxious or harried as I thought I would. As soon as the choice was clear in my mind, I just started dropping a bunch of lingering hangups and fears. Soon I will be in the place I need to be, following my heart in order to deepen my awareness of consciousness, which is really All There Is.

Of course I’m aware that moving to an ashram to potentially pursue monkhood is not a decision everyone will understand, and being “understood” once felt really important to me. I had this deep, unquenchable desire to “connect,” largely because I almost never felt connected to other people. It was a kind of Hell to feel so far away and unable to be “gotten” by others. However, when we are deeply assured of what we know and who we are—when all doubt has been removed about our truths—being understood is no longer a concern. We even see that it’s a significant obstacle to desire intellectual understanding of the path and for others to understand you.

Here’s why: They won’t. This is not true of everyone, and this is not meant to be any kind of condescending “my spirituality’s deep/they don’t get it” statement. Spirituality is actually very simple. Everyone gets it, mentally anyway. But I speak from experience in saying that if you wake up to ultimate Reality, if you change too fast, if you lose your mind, if you try to share with others what really happened when you lost your mind, if you become really open and unafraid and unstable… there are likely to be only a few precious individuals who really see what you’re going through. Very few will allow your process without judgment, and this is not their fault. People will judge (while saying to your face that they’re not judging); they will question and demand explanations and tell you to take more time and think and slow down and say that they are worried. This really does come from a caring place, and remember: You’ve been judgmental, too; it is a mental pattern that takes a lot of conscious effort to overcome.

Your job is to be okay with others’ lack of understanding, to carry the disapproval and concern wisely. (FYI: I did not do this.) Your job is to be decisive about what you need to do—it really is the waffling that creates problems. This waffling is what we call “resistance to the soul:” When we go back and forth about how we’re living now, it creates an unnecessary battle within. Higher consciousness (your heart and soul) is like a surge of water trying to burst through a dam. Your mind, with all its fears and rationalizations, is the dam. The pressure and cognitive dissonance arises only because you are resisting growth, albeit unconsciously. And I know this isn’t fun to hear, but when you feel stuck, the answer is almost always to give up the thing you think you can’t give up and to do the things you think you can’t do. All the while there must be a very sure, unshakable decision: I’m doing what my soul needs to do. Then you should try to not go back on your choices, even though a lot of well-meaning people may suggest that you do.

Being human, you probably will go back on your soul choice a few (or a million) times. I’ve done it more times than I can count. The conditioned mind is stubborn and it is used to being in charge; it does not want to relinquish its “control.” To truly follow your heart is to march through a field of intense fear, all by yourself, perhaps for a very long time. It is not glamorous and almost no one will reward you for it. Most of us do not follow our hearts. We follow others and we follow our conditioned minds, no matter how much trouble they get us into. Fear will try to goad you back into doing something conventional and safe, but your soul will always to try and pull you back into the unknown. Yes, it is scary. We are all afraid of what we don’t know, but the unknown is where our true selves dwell, so we have to take that leap. We cannot allow the threat of discomfort to make our life decisions.

Eventually, if you’re having an awakening, this struggle will subside. If you calmly (and resolutely) do what is needed, it will become clear that whatever happened during the most intense phases of awakening weren’t merely due to a “fluke” or a “hard time.” They were part of a transition—even if a turbulent one—into a new way of being.

Also, if you keep saying “yes” to your soul, the conditioned mind will start to back off as well. Once it gets the message that fear tactics won’t work because you’re going to keep surrendering, it will become quieter and begin to defer to you.

I think I’ve (finally) shed the expectation/desire to be “understood,” but I still want to write about my choice, because in it there are a lot of greater implications:

From the outside, the life of a monk probably looks suppressive or austere or regimented or any other number of words that means “restrictive.” The funniest thing about this is that the spiritual life feels like the exact opposite: You’re just totally free and happy. You laugh easily and nothing is mean-spirited. There’s nothing to worry about because you know you can’t die and that this world is but a divine play created by the mind. You have basic trust in others and in the universe. Also: Living in this freedom is the best thing for the rest of the world, even if you appear to be “doing nothing.” You move freely, think freely, and speak freely and without fear. You aren’t censoring or restricting yourself, but you’re not “out of control” either. I actually avoid spiritual traditions that are restrictive or commanding, and I always have. This is indicative of fear—”God won’t love us unless…”—and lack of trust in our ability to conduct ourselves reasonably. Also, the “goal” of the path is liberation, through and through. Rules can’t get you there, though self-discipline can. These are completely different things.

There is a belief in a lot of people that without a bunch of laws and mental checks and balances, we’d all be behaving savagely. This is an insult to humanity, again going back to how small and limited and weak we imagine ourselves to be. We—like the rest of the animal kingdom—know innately how to live if given an appropriate, natural environment. It is only because we have so far removed ourselves from a nurturing environment that we’re collectively ridden with such extreme problems. When people are raised safely and with unconditional acceptance, they do not tend to become abusive or greedy or miserly or power-hungry. One goal of spiritual revolution is to create a world where everyone treats everyone like loving family. This isn’t a moralistic, fuzzy thing we’re talking about; it is only practical.

So, even though there are “rules” at this ashram—chiefly sobriety, vegetarianism, and celibacy—abiding by these rules doesn’t require the exertion of willpower (for me anyway). I didn’t get the sense that anybody was suffering through their meatless meals or trying super hard not to sleep with one another. It’s just like with sobriety now—it almost never crosses my mind to drink anymore. It’s just the way it is and I am pleased with it. Life at the ashram all felt very natural and in-flow; it felt better than what we call “normal” life, which is very much not-free and often pretty mechanical-feeling. I knew I was there to work and grow spiritually, and everyone just seemed to value a simple, healthy way of life.

There are a lot more reasons for why I’ve chosen to take this step, but for now I think I’ll just say that it’s about freedom, plain and simple, and the awareness that freedom is necessarily an internal state.

– Lish

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Consciousness, Spirituality

Rethinking God

I returned from the retreat at Siddhayatan on Wednesday. I don’t want to write too much about it, but suffice it to say that it was an awesome experience. I could feel a radiance emerging within me while I was there, and Acharya Shree—the founder and spiritual master at Siddhayatan—has a definite energy about his being. He spoke the Truth and felt like the Truth, and that is the most important thing in a teacher.

We are living in an era where anyone can call themselves a spiritual teacher, and the Internet allows us all to say whatever we want. Especially when we’re starting out, it can be really hard to discern who has shed their ego (there aren’t many) and who hasn’t. It matters: When egos talk to other egos, not much wisdom is shared. When consciousness talks to consciousness, we enter a whole new realm of growth. Whoever you read/follow/listen to should clearly understand the difference (and overlap) in these terms.

Point is: Be skeptical. If you learn how to follow your intuition, you will know who is genuine in their teachings.

I want to talk about the word “God,” particularly how funny it is that I have a blog that makes use of this word even though I spent many years identifying as an atheist. I’m actually glad that I considered myself an atheist for so long: There was a certain strength and resolve to it. I stubbornly refused to accept anything I hadn’t experienced for my own self. It was like this: I’d never seen a unicorn, so I didn’t believe in unicorns—why should it be any different with God? I felt like the only way I would ever believe is if God arrived right in front of me and made itself known, which is exactly what happened, except not in the way my old mind thought it would.

The fact is that I didn’t believe in God because my idea of God was too small. Also, I saw lots of people who claimed to believe in this apparently all-loving, all-knowing being, but they were doing really awful things. Basically I saw no practical function for believing in God and no evidence of God’s existence. Things brings me to an important point: Any useful God should be both experiential and practical: It should not require that we take anything on some other person’s word, and its presence should create peace, compassion, and the removal of all hierarchies. In this way we see the futility (and danger) of religious belief systems: They fail in both regards.

When one human becomes highly conscious while the rest of their society is unconscious, the result tends to be dogma. The fluidity and dynamism of a conscious being is so powerful that others seek to trap and emulate these qualities, ignoring that this light is actually within them all the time. Complex myths and rituals crop up in an attempt to “get” whatever this prophet had (psst: it can’t be “gotten.”), and these traditions get handed down, largely by social coercion and the threat of Hell. A collection of ideas and rituals make up a “religion,” the nucleus of which was someone who simply realized the Truth of their being. Of course, all this usually occurs after said conscious being is either cast our or killed by said society. The luckier ones tend to live very poor and very happy and everyone just thinks they’re eccentric.

If Christ were to rise and appear in any of the megachurches today, it is almost a guarantee that He would be denigrated and/or arrested, especially if He tried to speak. The majority of Christ’s followers would not accept Him—they would call Him crazy instead. I don’t say any of this to be insulting, but to point out how unconsciousness makes us blind to the Truth even though it is right in front of us at all times.

Until I was about 26, I was all science-science-science, mind-mind-mind. I clung to this conditioning because I was Smart and culture says it is good to be Smart (in this one way). Despite my seeming smartness, it never occurred to me that biology could be God and evolution could also be God and every other thing I thought “refuted” God—including suffering—could be God, too. There was always this silly “debate” going on, as if these two things were in opposition. When we aren’t under the spell of delusion, it’s obvious that there is actually no friction between God and science.

This is what becomes clear as you expand in consciousness: God is everything. Still, even saying that confines God to a limitation, because immediately the mind rushes in with an idea for what “everything” means. And even if we define God as “limitless,” we remain contracted in our minds. God does not have limits but the conditioned mind does, and when you hit them, frustration and/or confusion will occur. If you imagine the nature of a thing that it limitless, it will be limited to your concept of what “limitless” is like. Limitlessness must be known just like the sun and wind must be known: Through direct experience, not concepts.

For the believer and the nonbeliever, the imagined God is too small. God is not actually something to believe or disbelieve in. God is something you know, or something you are seeking to know. Most people are in the latter category—not that this is a bad thing—and many of them are seeking unconsciously, meaning they don’t even know they’re on the path (but they are because the spiritual path isn’t really optional). No matter what we do or don’t do, we are all destined to know, to see, to reach this realization. There’s no way to avoid it.

I find neither atheists nor theists to be “more right.” If we apply any label to ourselves, we are missing it.

The Self, Reality, the Absolute, pure consciousness (or simply consciousness, depending on the context): These are all synonyms for the word “God.” God is still oddly thought of as a being, a thing, an entity outside of our own lives and selves. In this belief, we see how powerless humans imagine they are, and this is very unfortunate. I think Catholics even teach children that they are born sinners, and this is just sad and Not Right. Why set a child up for a life of shame and fear if God is supposedly all-loving? The Truth is the opposite: We are all already pure and perfect in the eyes of God, and this is always true. We’ve just been taught in so many ways to forget, forget, forget.

And even though we treat higher states of consciousness as maybe being different or special, that’s not quite accurate. This “ultimate” consciousness is the underlying substance of all things and it is all things, both seen and unseen. Nothing is excluded. I will say this again and again: It’s already there; it only matters how aware you are of it.

God is inescapable, and I mean that in a good way, because the sooner we realize there is nowhere to run and no point to resisting ourselves, the sooner we relax into the Truth. This is a wonderful place to be: We become unselfconscious, awake, joyful, decisive, and clear. Life is simple and beautiful. Everything lines up on its own, and we live in a near constant state of flow.

– Lish

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Conditioning, Culture, Spirituality, The Mind

Karma, Awareness, & Cultural Change

Apparently some people use words like “karma” to explain why others live in extreme poverty, or why awful things like human trafficking and widespread exploitation exist. I find this both ignorant and without compassion. It is very simple: We are collectively ill because we are individually ill, and vice versa. The illness I am talking about—as written about briefly in this post—can simply be called “conditioning.” We are conditioned to take on a great number of beliefs, none of which are rooted in our original being.

Discovering your original being and abiding in it is what “enlightenment” and sanity are all about. Doing so neutralizes all karma. I believe it’s Mooji who has a beautiful metaphor of pure consciousness being like a zero: Multiply anything by it and it is always zero. Even 10 billion times zero is zero. All the evil in the world, if it touches this thing, can become still, perfect, and empty. Everything is stopped and made new in an instant.

I never planned on writing about “karma,” for the same reason I didn’t really think I’d be using words like “spirituality:” It’s contaminated. It is not well understood. It is used, like many other concepts, to excuse people of their responsibility to their fellow human and/or to gloss over huge systemic concerns: Why do bad things happen to people? It’s their karma. This is a crazy oversimplification, and I really expect us to know better than this. In our culture, even if it we don’t call it “karma,” plenty of people believe that others have impoverished, difficult lives because they “chose” or “deserve” it. 

Yes, we either consciously or unconsciously create the situations in our lives. But we also collectively create this entire world (also either consciously or unconsciously). We can change the likelihood of certain events for ourselves and others by becoming more aware of this tremendous creative power. The things that happen to us—good or bad—are individually and collectively created, because every event depends on every other event. Everything inter-exists and inter-occurs. That means we are all responsible for the fact that poverty, war, starvation, and exploitation are a part of our world.

Breaking out of cycles of abuse, trauma, and dehumanization requires greater consciousness of these realities, plain and simple. This movement towards consciousness can be as grand as a “big-E Enlightenment experience” or as simple as becoming aware that you are breathing once in a while. Every little bit helps.

Greater consciousness alone can ensure a not-horrible way of being for our species. Every external change is a reflection of this internal movement, and the best way to create change is to approach our world from the inside-out: We start with our own minds first. If we do not do this, we run the risk of simply putting a fresh coat of paint on a house that is actually burning to the ground.

I’m going leave the whole “past lives” thing out of it as well, because this idea treats “lives” as if they are separate and different from one another. Everything is life; it is simply perceived through different bodies and minds across space-time. And we are never really individual threads of consciousness; it only appears and feels that way. Also, fixation with the past is one of the most insidious problems our conditioned minds have.

Along these lines, I find past-life regression—along with hypnosis and “channeling”—to be little more than a distraction from what needs to be done here and now. This is not to say that sometimes hypnosis and/or other forms of mind-work aren’t therapeutic—they surely can be. But if it is Truth we are after, we must know when we’ve done enough work in this realm. We must come out of our trances and be here, awake and in reality. And although meditation may look like a trance, it is not. Its goal is to help us become more conscious of this moment and of ourselves rather dipping into an un- or subconscious state.

We can go very, very deep into the conditioned mind without finding the Truth, and in fact are only more likely to get further away from it by these means. I don’t regard activities like “channeling” with any more seriousness than I do watching football or getting stoned. It might be fun to some people, but it’s delusional to imagine we know more about existence and/or the universe by doing these things regularly.

The way I think of karma is very simple, and not rooted in anything but common sense and experience with breaking out of patterns: We are bodies of energy exchanging energy. Whether or not we’re aware of it, we are constantly putting out energy and absorbing it as well. If we are unconscious of all this, we are likely to trap ourselves in certain unpleasant energetic loops when we do or say things rooted in anger, fear, or self-hatred. We will be forced to face what we’ve put out there (not to mention all the not-great energy that’s already out there) until we become more conscious of what’s happening. The way we “break free” from karma is by abiding in the pure awareness underneath all of this energy, which has no inherent “goodness or badness.” Awareness is that great neutralizer, that big zero.

When it comes to energy (which cannot be fooled or faked), actions alone are not the strongest part of the equation. It has more to do with intent and how separate we imagine we are from those we believe we are helping. Do we feel fundamentally different from the one we are helping? Do we fancy ourselves saviors for “those poor less fortunate folks?”

There is a lot of presumption in this line of thinking: First, it assumes that one’s external circumstances are a predictor of their happiness, and this is simply not true. I have seen some very miserable people and some very happy people in my life, and material comforts tend to play a small part in their attitudes. One’s true happiness does not correspond to wealth or societal status. Secondly, we become totally cut off from our kinship when we separate people into categories like “the needy” and “the helpers.” We create more division this way, and it is not an accurate reflection of our shared humanity.

If we donate some amount of money to the poor with the goal of “shoring up karma” or to brag about our good deed, our donation is obviously rooted in the egoic mindset. There is a different feeling we have when we act from the heart: If we help, it is because it just happens on its own. If we give something, there are no expectations that something will ever be returned. The “transactional nature” of life falls away. There is no more “I gave you this so you owe me that.”

From this state, kind deeds happen because they must happen. That is often how I feel about writing this blog, not knowing who (if anyone) will read it, what it will mean to them, or if I will benefit from doing so. Something wakes me up in the middle of the night and moves me to write something, and so I do that. It is not the same as when we give or create in the hope of some tangible reward.

The essence of of pure* doing versus egoic doing is as follows: One presupposes something better will come for the small “I;” the other bears in mind that the small “I” does not exist. One is full of effort to “do a good thing;” the latter just seems to happen. This is why people who commit “acts of heroism” don’t always feel comfortable with the flattery that follows: When they were being brave, they were just moved from an intuitive, deeply human place. They did what they felt anyone would do.

It is doing in this way that is probably “good for your karma,” but by this time we have already seen through the falseness of “your” karma and “mine.” These are all energy exchanges, neither good nor bad and neither “mine” nor “yours.” And why is this? Because, of course, “you” and “me” are just mental constructs. I have to keep coming back to this point, because we are encouraged to forget this truth all the time.

Still, we can be happier mental constructs and we can occupy a more beautiful and open collective dream, and that is what spirituality leads to when it is practiced honestly.

*The word “pure” has this kind of chaste, moralistic connotation. That isn’t how I mean it. The kind of purity I am talking about is a feeling, a certain unobscured clarity of mind. A synonym for a “pure heart” might just be an unconfused heart: There are no snags to its movements or desires, as well as no need to explain itself.

– Lish

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Consciousness, Culture, Spirituality

Judgment & Unconsciousness

The last few days have passed happily, and for this I am grateful. Being in this space—where I listen to music by myself and eat by myself and comment on books to myself—often comes with some expected bleakness. I have chosen this aloneness and I know it is important, so none of this isn’t meant as a complaint. I am also learning to see the beauty even in my lowest moods, because we can never predict exactly how these things are working on us.

When there is wisdom within me, I think of suffering as being similar to the way seeds are beaten by the climate or the way beans have to boil for a long time to be ready. When we are held too-comfortably—never worked upon by despair or rage—we are more likely remain as hard small inert things. Many of us have little incentive to become unless we are worked on intensively, and sometimes that means enduring a great deal of “reasonless” pain. Learning to see this larger picture is very sweet. I say all this while in a level mindset, with a cup of tea and the heat on and a heavy blanket and a smile. In the midst of intense suffering, though, these things are hard (or impossible) to remember. We just want the pain to go away, and I surely empathize with that.

As I prepare to head to the ashram in Texas, my nervousness and excitement have begun to compete with each other. I’m surprised that I’m headed there so soon, but sometimes a seed needs little watering to sprout if other conditions are favorable.

I started this post to address the way I write about things like alcohol and unconsciousness and culture. It might sound as if I am judging all these things as “bad,” but that’s not the case. I take no moralistic stance on the use of alcohol or drugs. I take no moralistic stance on this culture. We’re all just here, choosing and receiving whatever experiences we need to evolve in soul. For me, that has been to apparently black out a lot and have difficult relationships, experience a rough awakening, become somewhat distant, and not really know what to do with myself. I accept that, though some days it is harder than others.

I am doing what I can to mend past behaviors where possible, mostly by working on my own stuff and really ensuring my mistakes do not get repeated. I have a lot of experience with repeating mistakes. Still, I know all of these things—alcohol addiction, culture, thoughtless behavior, catastrophic breakdowns—are just expressions of consciousness. It is the conditioned mind that does all kinds of things with these expressions, including judgment and unskillful reaction.

In striving to become fully free of the conditioned mind, it feels prudent to say this: The Self does not judge or take morality to be anything more than a mind-made construct. This usually doesn’t mean we behave immorally, but that there is a mad yet perfect logic to God that we cannot access from our monkey minds. Also, there is a fine line between one we might call insane and one who is just totally submerged in the Absolute: There have been arguments over whether certain yogis are lunatics or if they’re realized, and “God-intoxicated” is a phrase I once read to describe Baruch Spinoza. Spinoza is credited with disseminating the idea of “pantheism,” the concept of an infinite, all-embracing God as opposed to a singular, patriarchal God. He is an awesome example of someone who followed and spoke the truth despite the way his society felt about it. I have loved the phrase ever since, and often feel that “God-intoxicated” is what I might like to become, no matter what that looks like externally.

And even if I do speak of human unconsciousness as “a root concern,” I know that unconsciousness, too, is really just another expression of consciousness. It is consciousness hiding from itself, temporarily of course, because the Truth does not stay hidden forever to anyone or anything. Whether tomorrow or at the end of our lives or right now, it will be seen.

I once heard from a wise artist that “we live in a universe of consequences.” His words have stuck with me, because they are so firmly rooted in the truth. “Consequences” is one of those words that is often used threateningly, or with the subtext that punishment is on the way. Of course, like all words, it is actually neutral. All it means is that things follow each other. Events create other events. Choices, be they well-considered or not, make new realities in every passing instant. This is an important thing to recognize, because in this statement we see that we ourselves are responsible for our world.

However, truly understanding the gravity of this sentiment, sometimes we can become paralyzed by how we are (or might be) impacting everyone and everything else. In every instant, there is a new world unfolding into forever. We wonder, who will I pass on the street if I leave in three minutes from now instead of five? What people will I meet if I go into this establishment instead of another? Getting lost in possibility and unforeseeable consequences is a thing more than one friend has reported to me, yet strangely it isn’t something I have felt frozen by.

For as long as I can remember there has been an anchor in my heart, a knowing that everything will turn out however it turns out, and that it will be fine. (Not that I mean to feign stability, here: This anchor has seemed to disappear many times, as has my heart.) And when I say “fine,” I do not presuppose a fairytale ending. Sometimes a human life is little more than a series of painful events, and trying to force a silver-lining attitude about this is just false.

I think all I mean is that whatever happens will happen and it will be handled one way or another. This is a very simple, unemotional truth; c’est la vie. Troubling ourselves over it only creates further disturbance; it lessens our ability to be present and make wise decisions now. The best we can do is have the courage to listen to our hearts and try to be of sound mind. When we act from this place, we’re unlikely to go wrong, no matter what invisible set of dominoes we kick over. Beyond that, we just have to let go.

There are laws in this universe—both physical and energetic—that we simply cannot get out of. When we try, there is enormous friction, and we create a lot more pain than we need to. For example, there are physical laws about how much clean water is required to sustain a human population. When we live out of balance with these natural laws, some amount of humans will likely die of thirst or poisoning.

So, too, are there energetic laws, such as what tends to happen when we act angrily towards someone. They are either likely to reflect that anger right back to us, or internalize it as self-hatred. Either way, this energy gets recycled in some form that results in more suffering—unless anger is thrown at someone who is aware of what’s going on. When we are very aware, there is nowhere for such energy to resound. We become like Teflon for energies that might’ve triggered us tremendously in prior years. It is a very neat thing to witness yourself growing in this way.

It is simple unconsciousness that creates these imbalances, this sense of disharmony, this lack of awareness about energy. When we know by experience that consciousness dispels unconsciousness, we live differently. We begin to pay attention and follow these “universal stoplights,” not out of fear of punishment or even a “sense of morality,” but because it is so rational. Paddling against the current is exhausting and it gets us nowhere.

I will say that if given the preference, I think I’d rather live in a joyful and sane and healthy culture. The consequences of our current hivemind and way of being cannot lead to that. In this universe of consequences, 2 + 2 will never equal anything but 4, and that is what I try to remember, without believing anything in this world is “wrong” or “shouldn’t exist.” It is all simply part of the play.

– Lish

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Narratives, Spirituality, The Ego, The Mind

Expectations & Fears

So here’s a thing that’s happening: In less than a week, I will fly from Seattle to Dallas. I will rent a car and drive to an ashram that is located in a (very) small town. I will enjoy a spiritual retreat—my first ever, actually—and speak with the guru about the possibility of becoming a monk (nun?) and living long-term at this ashram as part of their community.

This was an intuitive, gut decision I made over the course of a few days, though the idea of becoming a full-time spiritual aspirant has been with me for many months. I should probably be clear that I do not care for the notion of spending a lifetime “seeking,” and how that is not what I am seeking (hehe) to do here.

There are several reasons why this feels like the right move to me, but I’m trying to keep my expectations to a minimum. Expectations are cruel tricks of the mind. They immediately create an obstacle whereby acceptance of what is becomes impossible. When we find ourselves disappointed, we can always trace this disappointment back to an expectation that things were going to be different, better, easier, more fun, etc. The grim faces we see everyday can be traced back to expectations: I was supposed to have made something of myself; I was supposed to be married by now; I never thought life would go this way…

Nobody’s life goes the way they think it’s going to go—and that only applies to people who have plans in the first place. More often we just semi-consciously fall into some bearable rhythm charted out for us by society at large, and assume it’ll lead to satisfaction. Strangely, we are surprised to find that this non-strategy often leads to malaise of all kinds. We wake up mid-life and feel we are missing something: Life is in its autumn, and we do not feel ready for it.

It is important to remember that the cultural messages we receive lead us astray time and again, and that the confusion this creates ought to be used as a pointer into the heart. It is only the inner compass that is reliable, and this is only true once we have had some practice following it.

The hivemind never overtly says “you’re going to get the shit beat out of you by life before you even have an inkling of what fulfillment is like.” Instead it says, “you really can escape pain by achieving and acquiring and doing!” Then we get busy without much investigation of the premise. Before we know it, we’re in a trap. This is all very mechanically done, handed down from one generation to the next. We unconsciously teach one another this lie by continuing to buy into it all the time.

I do not mean that life must be endless hardship, but hardship is necessarily a part of this thing, and trying to avoid hardship—or expecting that it should not be there—only worsens our predicament as humans.

So I’m keeping an eye on my projections and expectations about this whole Texas-ashram-guru adventure. I am also keeping an eye on my fears, which are just as life-denying as expectations, though usually more insidious because we tend to keep fears buried deep.

We are all pretty open about our hopes and expectations, but usually stay very quiet around fear. This illustrates the (imagined) power of fear: It silences and suppresses and squishes us into contracted people incapable of authenticity. We don’t like to look at these things, so we just don’t. Instead, we tend to move through life simply avoiding those things that have the potential to strike a fear chord, and this is to our deep detriment. I am happy to see that “challenging fear stories” is now a common thing within personal growth circles. Less fear can only be a positive thing overall, especially because there isn’t anything to be afraid of in reality.

I will tell you my fears, because I think that bringing fear to the surface helps to show how ridiculous and small it is: I’m afraid I will be found deeply defective by the residents of this ashram, that I will be told my ego is so whacked-out and absurd and unconscious that it’s not even worth trying. I think my greatest fear has to do with being too defective even for God: That I will stand before the Ultimate and present my latent darkness (which is inexorably a part of me) and the Ultimate will reject me because of these itchy tendencies, cravings, and judgments. I know this is not even really a Thing because God is that darkness, too. All of my fears are a bunch of nonsense the mind uses because it works on my ego.

I am afraid of coming home with no idea about what to do. I am afraid of stagnating creatively, relationally, and spiritually. I am afraid of not finishing what I started. I am afraid of not living my potential full-time. Then I think, hey, maybe I’m onto something here because fear is one of the mind’s favorite weapons for keeping us in its grips. And I also think, worst case scenario: I get to take four days off of work and go deeply into myself in a place specifically designed to help me go deeply into myself. And I think, get a grip, Lish, you’ve been through it all already, and somehow you are still not only living but generally quite content.

Fear, like everything else, is just something to watch from a place of awareness. What I am describing in the above paragraph is still an illustration of egoic defenses. I am trying to soothe the ego with stories the mind finds more comforting. Ideally we can learn to just see how fear is a big lie our egos use to keep us believing we are these little powerless unhappy and uncreative things. 

The trick with awareness is not to “spin” a fear story into new, different, happier-sounding story. When we do this, we are just covering sad delusion with happy delusion, and the whole point is to be free of all delusion. Perhaps this is why I’ve always had more than a little bit of disdain for “affirmations.” Give me a little credit, Louise Hay: I know when I’m lying to myself.

I’m not trying to put stories on top of stories or to cover negative with positive or even replace fear with love, even though these themes are super popular and even though I’ve probably written and/or will write something to the contrary in the future. The Truth is not a story; it is just the Truth. Truth is not love, or light, or positivity, or anything else. These metaphors may help us on certain parts of our journey, but ultimately, Truth just is what it is.

Having said that, I can keep this all very neutral and to-the-point: I’m headed to an ashram in Texas soon, and I have no idea what is going to happen there.

– Lish

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Depression, Spirituality, The Ego, The Mind

The Maddening Spiritual “Middle Ground”

I just had one of my worst days in a long time. What’s more, all of my cures for bad days have flown away, because I have made it so: Alcohol’s gone, I was never into weed, food is too short-lived an escape for me, I got rid of the TV (which only played DVDs but even that was tripping me up), I don’t have the Internet in my apartment, and I’m on a spiritual book detox because after a while you just can’t read anymore of that stuff. I deactivated my social media last week, I’m single, and it’s never been in me to sensibly reach out to friends or family. By the time I need to reach out, I’m already neck-deep in emotions I do not feel safe sharing with anyone.

What this means is that when I struggle, there’s not much old ego-stuff to cope (see: numb) with. Guess what? My mind hates this, and therefore punishes me with a host of even uglier feelings: Guilt, shame, loneliness. This thought, always: I feel so alone and misunderstood. Despair, isolation. Check, check, check.

The most frustrating thing about these feelings is that I understand their origin perfectly well: Loneliness survives only in a mind which is conditioned to believe it is separate from others. Loneliness has its root in wanting. Only the ego needs to be “understood;” what we are is beyond understanding. The false identity craves connection, craves intimacy, craves anything at all. In Truth these cravings dissolve before us; we realize we actually have always been (and will always be) alone, but it is not sad, it is beautiful. We are alone, but we are God; we are everyone and everything, and we are peace itself. Persistent negativity of this variety is the result of unconscious stuff that doesn’t want to be seen, and yet it also does. Whatever I still cling to, it’s the death of me. Ambivalence is a killer on this path.

I get all that intellectually, but still I remain riddled with these emotions; clutched by them, suffocated by them. I sob in bed and ask for help and for a long time there is nothing but silence. Usually, whenever I next open my computer or pick up a book, there’s something there for me to read that helps. In this way I know my prayers are actually heard.

And yet I am a person. I’m still highly flawed and irritated with myself, especially with the fact that I’m highly flawed and irritated with myself. This is not about me having an unrealistic expectation about being “perfect,” but about going the whole way into spiritual freedom, all while knowing that my ego is fighting to protect something that will definitely crumble one day anyway.

There’s something gnawing in me that wants to make itself known: This is not bipolar depression, mmkay? (Even if it was, and even if bipolar depression was something different than “normal” terribleness amplified, the above statements would still be true.) It’s just been a rotten day. I know for a fact that my body/mind came standard with emotions that go to 11, but for the love of God, emotions do not always need diagnoses. Just because we’re not actually robots designed to feed the capitalist machine while maintaining that “we’re fine” in every passing conversation doesn’t mean we are sick.

In fact, I’m willing to say right now that emotions never need diagnoses, though they may certainly need healers. If we insist on doing this, the diagnoses should come with a huge note at the bottom, something along the lines of: You, as an individual entity, are just an idea with no grounding in Reality. Seeing this clearly will alleviate every problem you have, including your negative emotions. This may not be an easy task, so here’s a mood disorder diagnosis to have until you’re ready to let it go. If you never are, that’s okay. But we’re just putting it out there, because it’s revolutionary, and it is your final destination as a soul to realize this truth for yourself.

Of course I kid, even though I actually, really, honestly wish someone had taken the time to educate me on the true meanings of the ego and pure consciousness—ideally before I went “insane.” Nobody did, because they just didn’t know how, and also I wasn’t looking.

Hence this blog. Hence my life.

What I’m really getting at is that you can have your mind and ego blown to smithereens by God/Self/Being, and these wily things will manage to cobble themselves back together.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The mental “knowing” of All Things Spiritual really gets us nowhere. I gotta be honest, it often feels dreadfully ineffective to have a blog on consciousness because the whole punchline, after everything I write, is this: “But you really gotta see it for yourself.” It’s like spending your life describing to people the beauty of your favorite place in the world. You could do that, sure, but for the people you love, you really want to just buy plane tickets so they can go there and know the magic of this location firsthand.

Except there’s no ticket you can buy to this thing. Also, very few people seem to want to go. Or they say they do but balk when you get too close to the airport, or think they’ve already been there so what’s the point, or otherwise come up with 10,000 explanations for why they’re just “not interested in Absolute Truth.” They just want to be better people, or just take down the “worse people.” That’s the problem, after all—it’s certainly not their own unconsciousness.

And I get that. Hell, I want to be a better person. But ultimately, it is not “a good person” that I strive to be—in fact, I do not want to be a person at all. I’m not sure that this statement on its own makes sense, so I’m going to explain: “A person,” as defined by the conditioned mind, is always unreliable. One minute a person is happy, the next sad, then angry, maybe compassionate—a person’s entire way of being can be altered drastically just by threatening a few key attachments and/or illusions. It is a volatile construct, the egoic personality (and all personalities are egoic.).

People are inherently contradictory. They claim they’re one thing and then act differently. They say they’ve forgiven, and yet they bring up “the forgiven incident” when angry. They consider themselves loving and nonjudgmental and go on to say something quite hateful. They believe they are “good” and yet they say mean things. They swear they’re going to give this-or-that thing up—only to pick up the habit again in a few days. The flimsiness of the conditioned mind (again, this is the definition of a “person”) is so obvious it’s maddening.

I don’t mean this to be an attack. Nor is it meant to be the oversimplified, negative “People just suck” maxim that almost everyone reaches when they go deeply into conversations about the state of the world. Such a sentiment often serves to absolve us of digging further, of looking at our layers of self-deceit and fear stories. It is not a cynical attitude; it is just the nature of “personhood.” All that thinking and feeling without the stable foundation of Truth revealing that everything is totally fine? Of course we’re freaking wobbly.

And I admit fully: I’m like this, too. I’ve done all those things a thousand times. My mind is a disintegrating carousel I keep trying to get on, somehow believing it’ll be super fun this time. Then the carousel turns into a nightmare à la that creepy ride in the original Willy Wonka movie and I wake up a bit more. Oh, yeah! I remember. That’s why I don’t trust it! My mind lets itself think I’ve won sometimes.

I resolve to abide in my Self, my Truth, my unwavering Knowing… and then of course, I fail. Again. It’s exhausting, this middle ground. I wish I had advice on it, but I just cried and ate a bunch of cheese, so I don’t think I’m the best person for that.

One of my favorite spiritual teachers, Mooji, says that on the path, we’re moving from “person” to “presence.”

So I’m not saying I don’t want to be human; I just don’t want to be a person. First of all, I suck at it; secondly, it brings a lot of suffering—in part because I suck at it, but also because I see clearly the futility of trying to be better at Playing Person™. Doing so would not bring me to the Truth, and that’s all there is; that’s all we’re here for anyway: To evolve in consciousness until we see who we are, irrefutably, undoubtedly, perfectly, and not personally.

So what good would it really do to become more comfortable in groups? What joy would I find if I felt like “small talk” was a breeze (to be fair, I don’t think anyone really enjoys small talk.)? How much happier would I be if I could act like a person better? The answer: Not very. It is Truth I long for and nothing else, knowing full well that it will cost me my dear illusory “person.”

But whatever. She kinda sucks anyway, so it’s really no loss at all.

– Lish

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Awakening, Reality, Spirituality, The Ego, The Mind

How Awakening Feels

There are lots of posts out there about this topic: “10 Signs of a Spiritual Awakening,” “The Top Symptoms of Awakening,” etc.

I decided to title this post “How Awakening Feels” because making a list of the things that you might be seeing externally is contrary to the fact that waking up necessarily happens within. It’s not about what things you’re drawn to, what coincidences you’re noticing, or even what changes you’re making in your life. Plenty of people move towards healthier ways of life and experience synchronicity without dismantling their egos. These can be wonderful things, and they may signify that something about your consciousness/way of perceiving the world is shifting. Still, that’s not quite what we’re getting at here.

Waking up may not translate to any great outside change immediately, though it likely will at some point unless you were hyper-aware beforehand. Due to our culture of unconsciousness, most of us are not.

Sanity & Who You Really Are

I don’t care for the word “symptom” when it comes to waking up. It implies illness, when that’s the exact opposite of what’s happening here. Rather than “coming down” with some kind of disorder or disease, you’re actually becoming sane in a way that not everyone gets to experience this time around.

Our collective madness is deep enough that we do not often recognize the validity of this process. That’s why sometimes people experiencing intense ego collapses and/or awakenings can get all kinds of diagnostic labels thrown at them, usually of the psychiatric variety. These diagnoses can act as a hindrance to further growth, but that’s a whole different topic for a whole different post.

To be clear, when I say “waking up,” I mean knowing in an instant who really you are, and knowing Reality because it’s just right here. In Reality, who you are is not different than who anyone else is. This statement is an affront to the unconscious ego, which spends almost all its time defending what is special and different about who it thinks it is. This is common even (and sometimes more so) in spiritual circles.

As we awaken, we find that individuality and separateness—two things our culture deeply cherishes—are nothing but great illusions. However, this is not a negative revelation that says “you live once and then you die, becoming forever unconscious.” Instead, this a positive revelation that lets you know “you’ll live forever as one with everything and everyone else.”

As always, it is not enough to believe these things. Plenty of people “know” we are all one, and/or believe we live in a hologram, and/or think that “nothing really exists.” First of all, this is an oversimplification. Secondly, most people who say such things still very much live in their ego stories. This isn’t meant to be a judgment so much as a testament to the weakness of mental positions alone. The mind can gather so much information, and yet the person can be totally unconscious of why they do the things they do. (Even worse, they are usually clever enough to think they know why they do the things they do.) We can easily make a seemingly deep statement like “everything is impermanent” while carrying on with our jealousies and grudges. Truth must be made real in your whole being, outside of the mind. This is how we become liberated and step into great power.

Who you are is not separate from God, which can (in part) be described as a limitless field of pure, perfect consciousness. This consciousness is in all things; it is that which you can experience and that which you can’t. It is nothing and everything, the Alpha and the Omega, etc.

Beneath various attachments, fears, doubts, and about a gazillion layers of conditioning, that’s what you really are: Perfect, timeless, ever-conscious, ever-alive. It is more beautiful than the word beautiful can denote; it is more still than the mind can fathom.

It is my deepest wish for every human being to know this space within themselves, and let it guide them towards a life of wellness, joy, and authenticity.

No Two Snowflakes…

Awakening goes differently for everyone.

Mine, for instance, has been rather chaotic. I didn’t know anything about spirituality beforehand, as my preconceptions led me to take a “no thanks” attitude towards it. Furthermore, I believed my thinky mind could find all the answers I’d ever need, and my ego was built around a hurt little soul who really didn’t want anyone to see or help her. When the ego starts to fall apart and this hurt is exposed to us for the first time, the vulnerability can be excruciating.

In spite of the fact that there are probably as many different “stories of awakening” as there are buddhas, we ultimately all see (and become) the same thing. This isn’t along the lines of “well you have your truth and I have mine.” While diplomatic, that statement is way off the mark. This may work for arguments and mental positions, but we’re working on a different level here. Capital-T Truth is the same for everyone who sees and becomes it, and no prophet or religion can have a monopoly on it.

This thing is that vast field of pure consciousness, and man, it’s really powerful. I cannot stress this enough. No matter how much energy or kundalini or LSD or whatever you’ve experienced, it does not compare to the raw, clean power of pure consciousness. It feels like everything you do is completely effortless. You’re not moving your body, your body’s just being moved. Even right now, as I compose this blog post, it feels that way: “I,” lish, am not writing it—it actually feels preposterous to take personal credit for anything I’ve written. It is simply being done; this body and mind are secondary.

This thing is powerful enough to heal you and move you into a new way of being. It’s also powerful enough to heal us collectively and move us into a sane way of living on this planet—if that’s what we choose. Of course, first we’d have to decide that we really want it, that we’re finally ready for the Truth.

And yet, the ego resists. Like any other entity, it doesn’t want to die. We’d have to be really sick and tired of this strange carousel to decide it’s time to jump off—especially because we don’t know what’ll happen to us if we do.

It takes a lot of courage, and no one but you gets to decide when that time is.

Common Feelings in Awakening

Of course, “feeling” isn’t quite the right word. Feelings exist on a mind/body level. Awakening occurs on a soul/consciousness level, a part of you that can easily go ignored all your life if you don’t feel moved to pay attention to it. So, feelings are expressions of this thing, and consciousness moves through them. But when it comes down to it, it’s just really simple and really clear. It’s not an emotion; it’s not even a “sensation” or an “experience,” even though those are words I sometimes use for it. The moment I will describe is of clarity and purity and simplicity and goodness.

And, to get technical, this blissful moment is not necessarily the same as the final “extinguishing” of craving and the personal “me.” It’s more like a strong hit to the ego which triggers an arising of new growth within. Trying to deny and suppress this growth process will suck. A lot. Genuine awakenings pull you along whether you like it or not.

I see this first spiritual experience as the little kiss from God promising me ahead of time that I’d be okay and that it would all be worth it, even though everything was about to get super difficult. Without it I might’ve folded shortly after the mental hospital, succumbed to my diagnosis, and never felt empowered enough to speak the Truth.

Instead, I had this incredible thing to hold onto until I was ready to let it go.

Super important: These feelings were, in time, obscured by the return of more familiar (awful) feelings. It was almost like they came back with a vengeance. During the journey towards integration of the awakening, it was like my mind wanted to punish my ego for thinking it could vanish so suddenly, and it definitely did this.

Before I go too far on that tangent, let’s talk about the feelings that immediately came after this first spiritual wake-up call:

Aha!: It’s instantaneous, like you just suddenly know, even if you’re not clear on what it is that you know. I think I described it to some friends as an “epiphany.” In a Zen book, I read of the comparison that it can be like “running into an old friend,” and I like that. It’s like running into a dear old friend you haven’t even thought about in years, but oh my god, you love them so much and here they are giving you a hug!

Extreme relief: I once felt like I had so. many. problems. Addiction, abandonment fears, obsessions, insecurity, self-hatred, worldly failure, lack of purpose, isolation, disconnection, chronic shame… it was a shitshow in there, you guys. In that moment, these things simply flew away like birds from a wire. An enormous weight dissolved from my heart, and it was so relieving to know I didn’t have to feel that way anymore.

Humor/hilariousness: And what, exactly, had I been so concerned with anyway? It seemed super funny to me that I ever imagined I’d been so trapped. It was just like “duh; you’re loved.” I even called to mind some of the things that used to have me all stuck in shame—the torches I carried for ex-boyfriends being most significant. I laughed at the person who thought any of that had ever been a big deal. Because it wasn’t. Like, at all.

Joy: There was a flooding of joy that resulted in some happy, hysterical crying. “Oh my god, everything is fine,” I thought. I had the sense that I always would be fine. I have mostly hung onto this knowing ever since this moment, though it has been forgotten on occasion.

Deep peace and stillness: You know how it feels to have an obnoxiously overactive mind? I expect you do, because we’re encouraged to develop this kind of mind in Western culture. Now imagine that the volume on your  loud mind has been cranked down by about 80%. This was the most disorienting part for me. My mind had been a huge part of my identity (like it is for most of us), and so to “lose” my precious thought content was an even deeper jab to my already-bleeding-out ego.

These feelings occurred in the span of a few hours. It was great and really strange.

After a few days, I was in full-blown “wtf is happening to me?” mode. The meaninglessness sunk in and my mind was pretty disgruntled at being tossed from the throne. Confusion invaded my being like an alien presence I hadn’t asked for. This is when things got weird, and worse, and eventually culminated in a glorious catastrophe I could sum up as “Winter 2015/2016.”

More on that at some point in the future.

– Lish

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