Become the stalker of your ’’me’’ relating to others. Every time you interact with someone keep track of your personal neurotic patterns—the interfering fears—that set you up for a trip up & impel you to abandon and lose track of the other for the sake of your demanding, insatiable ego. Notice—in hindsight, “retroactively”—the subtle shift where your listening morphs into a form of pleading and stillness gets drowned out by the rush of your restless attempts to prove yourself.
You are as real as an optical illusion is real: it’s all a matter of perception, relative to a self. Meaning is relative to a me. The truth precedes any (perceptual) interpretation of experience. The truth precedes the illusion of you.
Your ego is a strange attractor that anchors looping neurotic patterns (of emotion, thought, behavior) that sustain a sense of you as a somebody.
This moment is all that has ever been. The rest is a random rainbow trip. Consciousness collapses into an ego trip when a perception [of safety/threat, comfort/pressure, success/failure, freedom/trap, acceptance/rejection, appreciation/misjudgement, etc.] triggers a cascade of neurotic patterns across hormonal, myofascial, metabolic, psychological, etc. levels. The ’I’ flares up, the story of ’me’ rekindles and Light slips down the rabbit hole of the personal kaleidoscope. That is to say: Experience collapses into perceptions that in turn trigger neurotic patterns of anxiety, excitement, joy, nervousness, worry, guilt, shame, fixation, avoidance, recoil, fear of loss, of missing out, sense of inadequacy, of inferiority, of unworthiness, melancholy, dejection, compulsion to sustain, preserve and conserve, muscular tension in the gut, in the neck, cortisol spikes, glycogen plummets, etc.
Ego consciousness is an energy vortex with an ever elusive vacuum in the middle surrounded by clouds of cyclic patterns. Reminds me of this:
When people tell me that they don’t understand the things I write/talk about I know that the only reason they don’t get me is that they don’t understand themselves in the first place. When dealing with me some feel confused about me, some feel frustrated by me, some dislike me, some quite like me—but if they cared enough most of them, I think, would be somewhat fascinated by (their idea of) me. Paradoxically, the less separate I feel from them (us) the more separate they seem to feel from me. The less there is of me and the more I loosen & relax into (us as) life they tend to project more and more of their issues onto me. In other words, people relate to people like me exactly the way they relate to life. It’s not personal at all. It’s just weird.
I’ve started the practice—the admittedly quaint practice I should say—of looking at people as if I was looking at flowers (partly as a countermeasure to the chronically clingy nature of my strategically aloof personality). Whenever a cute girl, for instance, turns me on and I feel a surge of an urge to pick (up) and possess or at the very least fixate on her from a safe distance I know that in a sense I enact the death of (the spirit in) both of us—as in: (neurotic) attachments retard relations (the dynamic unfolding of authentically relating to self & other): an image of ’her’ and an image of ’me in relation to her’ takes the place of the truth of the volatile moment. By making a mental note of this I manage to curb my fervid enthusiasm.
And gradually it’s starting to dawn on me for real what my spiritual savvy ego-mind has been telling me for a while now: that there really is nothing inside us. Nothing. We are truly empty—plain, hollow forms undulating, just like flowers or blades of grass in the fluctuating flesh of the air—we simply exist. In other words: there is no-one but ’only’ some body to us, we are no-one but some body. There is a subtle but all the more poignant sense of this creeping up on me now that just blows my mind—I wonder what happens when the recognition descends deeper into the heart and the gut: Nobody is special. There is no substance to (the idea of) anyone.
And yet, there is me and there is the emotional attachments plaguing me. There is me and there are the compromising (social, financial, health) conditions of me. There is me and his recognitions—A face grasping against the mystery of its abysmal depthlessness.
Let all (self-imposed) pressure to deliver go.
Let your fac(ad)e crumble and reveal the empty interior.
Let the IMAGEs [opinions, views, thoughts, beliefs, internal commentaries, memories, reminiscences, feelings, facts, etc. about yourself, other people, the world, as well as the attendant sense of guilt, loss, shame, inadequacy, anxiety, inferiority, regress, progress, mission, success, superiority, etc.] that fill in the gaps and contract the flow of perception melt and leak away, and reveal the world again and again—as quickly as they congeal.
Let there be more truth and less fixation.
This is a quick heads up about an interview over at Daniel Vitalis’ site in which Gábor Máté talks about compulsive tendencies, addictions, ADD and other dysfunctional patterns of behavior we deploy to cope with the overwhelming feelings of separation that modern society nurtures (and instills in us from a very early age). Trauma, in his view, is the act of dissociation from reality to buffer the pain that its experience inflicts. The way out of dysfunction is awareness and a cultivation of presence (=an authentic and transparent way of engaging ourselves, others and the world) and so it’s imperative that we take inventory of all our actions and take ownership of the intent behind them and the actual impact they have on us (and others) when we practice them. Even when we indulge in potentially self-harming practices to escape reality and avoid the primal pain that starts bubbling up to the surface in the present moment the mere willingness to stay with the compulsion to recoil is enough, as he says: all darkness dissipates when you bring the light of awareness shine on it