The Truth Has Nothing To Do With You

Take nothing at face value. See through the sur-face. See through the ripples. Rest with the truth of this moment. No matter the content it’s the context of your engagements that manifests in your experience. No matter their content it’s the context of your comments that determines the interpersonal trajectories involving you.

 

See through the bitchiness of women, see through the antagonism of colleagues, see through the heavy moods of loved ones, see through their trans-generational, trauma-induced compulsions to hurt and feel hurt, see through the ingratiating comments of your fans, see through your adverse and elated reactions—feel them, embrace them, fully, rest in them, struggle with ease—nothing’s a big deal.

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I T i S W H a T i T i S [A brief & personal account of one of my recent internal battles]

Whatever STATE arises stay the SPACE around and in front of it. Relax and relish what unfolds. Nothing is personal.

Recently I experienced some discomfort for over a week in the form of a cough-inducing itchiness in my throat (especially around 8pm in the evenings), sluggishness (in the afternoons), feeling in general as if I was about to fall ill. My system was undergoing a February defragmentation of sorts, I guess. The immune system was busy with some bugs that’s for sure. And it all generated a mild but compounding tension in me over the days because no matter the measures I took to tilt the bio-chemical battle inside in favor of my immune system I seemed to be stuck in a convalescing limbo, and what made the whole travail even worse was the high sexual arousal that accompanied it. In fact, once I couldn’t contain it any longer and I ended up busting a big fat one that contributed to an intensification of the itchiness in my throat.

At any rate, when I finally accepted that I won’t escape this energetic slump simply by taking some aspirin and ginger candies and whatnot and I can’t get away from it by distracting myself long enough with my projects I decided to relax and relish the STATE I’ve found myself in. One night I sat down to inquire.

As usual I started out with the opener:—What’s here?

First, I tuned into and described to myself the STATE I felt enmeshed in (in terms of somatic ’textures’ and sensations) by scanning my body, and then I drifted into feeling into the ways my mind was involved in all this. Essentially, I began tracing the subliminal meanings that, in effect, established the emotional tension that was ratcheting up over the days. In what follows I’ll attempt and shortly dramatize the situation to give you an idea:

Basically, there were 2 voices (one of them to a lesser & the other to greater degree streaming from the ego) rippling & mingling as I was sitting still. One of them was, say, the reassuring type the other the more bitchy, insidious one—which, incidentally, came out pretty slowly and incrementally but at the end proved to be quite noisy as well as nasty.

The Reassuring one was the first one to comment:

It is what it is. It’s OK. I don’t mind. If I fall ill it’s OK. No big deal. I won’t fall behind because of this. It is what it is. Etc.

To which the Bitch whispered back:

—It’s OK but I think it could have been avoided.

Reass reacted sharply and rather abstractly (in the language of high-minded spiritualese):

—Who gives a fuck. WHO GIVES A FUCK?! I don’t care. I DON’T GIVE A FLYING DUCK. Whatever happens, happens. There is no mistakes made. There is no right or wrong way. There is only this moment and that’s the truth. No discomfort can take away the truth. No thought can take away the truth. The only thing I can ever lose is a purchase on my fictitious self-image. In fact, I need the itchy throat. I need the battle. I need the sickness. I need the truth.

After some such back and forth [in essence, about being a frail human vs. a superhuman] Bitch finally turned into Butch and launched its de-finitive attack:

—But I have to be healthy. Otherwise I lose the GAINS [mental, spiritual, physical gains] that I’ve made. If I relapse I lose all the GAINS that I have worked on so much to make. Sickness is not OK. Sickness is a relapse in the PROGRESS. Don’t you understand?! A collapse means that I have to start all over again. I was getting CLOSER but I/’you’ messed up. Now, I have to re-cover the lost GAINS again. I could have avoided it but you fucked up. Had you been more careful, you could have easily prevented this. Again, we lose more TIME with this. We will arrive ’THERE’ much later. You shouldn’t have jerked off either. You shouldn’t have taken your hormonal imbalance so personally. You are SLOPPY, you cause harm. You let down yourself & you let down OTHERS. YOU SHOULD PAY MORE ATTENTION AND NOT ABUSE THE INVESTMENTS OTHERS PUT IN YOU. SHAME ON YOU. YOU SHOULD FEEL GUILTY. YOU DESERVE TO FEEL BAD ABOUT YOURSELF. FUCK YOU YOU STUPID DUMB LOSER FUCK. Etc., etc.

Wow.

What can I say? Yet another instant when the [progress-obsessed aspect of the] ego was drawn into the open and once again seen for its nonsense. I simply let it be and embarrass itself in front of me/itself. Of course, this whole schizoid dialogue wasn’t so clean cut as it’s presented here but this is the essence of what rippled through ’me’ during that sit. Admittedly, this is very personal stuff but I don’t mind sharing it because I’m sure in some form you can relate.

On a side-tangent: I’d like to also share that for some reason I have this recurring thought that these anxiety-provoking voices that routinely haunt my psyche in (emotionally overwhelming) situations like this are actually inherited in a way. In point of fact, my ancestors were peasants on both sides of my family who by necessity were rather frugal and privation-minded people so to say. It’s not that hard, in my view, to hear some potential echoes from the energy field they emotionally inhabited still reverberating in my life today. Also, both my grandfathers were heavy alcoholics and I can easily imagine that the voices haunting them were very similar in kind to the ones I tend to get tormented by [in my intellectual, romantic, spiritual, health-related pursuits]. Read back what I just wrote above and think of people struggling with the specter of scarcity. Now we have to start all over again because you pissed it all away you dumb fuck. All that hard effort is wasted because you couldn’t control yourself, because you are just too weak. You are just a burden and nothing but a source of misery and pain for all of us. We all suffer because of you. We suffer FROM you. Etc. The contents may change but the theme is the same. And it may very well extend way beyond the ancestral confines of the family tree. But then, God only knows… and it doesn’t matter, anyway. What matters is what’s here now. Always. What’s here?

Remember: Whatever STATE arises stay the SPACE around and in front of it. Relax and relish what unfolds. Nothing is personal.

The irony of it

How ironic. I tell others how important it is to keep track of our actions and reactions (or wobbles) in all our interactions so that we learn more about ourselves and others and that way achieve a true(r) communion. And then I think about all the invitations I’ve turned down over the years. I think of all the opportunities I’ve shot down, all the openings to engage others on more intimate terms that I’ve turned away from. When I ask myself why, the idea that comes up is freedom. Keeping my freedom and privacy as much uncontaminated as possible—that seems to be the crux of my shtick. Ironic, I think. More than probably it’s the very attempt to keep my freedom that generates the sense of it being under threat and as a result the bulk of my wobbles. Admittedly, I invest lots of energy to buffer and maintain a distance because without it, without keeping solid personal boundaries I feel suffocated.
Suffocated by what?—you probably ask. Aren’t you suffocated by your own buffering?
To which I would answer that I feel suffocated by the emotional demands imposed upon me.
What emotional demands?
That I must reciprocate even at the expense of my own genuine impulses.
What ’genuine’ impulses?
Impulses the don’t necessarily mesh with what others need from me.
Is that really such a huge problem?—you retort—Do things have to be perfect? And more importantly, aren’t you fixated on your ’’wobbles’’ precisely because you wish to avoid or somehow resolve them in the first place?
Clearly, I make a huge deal out of inter-actions. Perhaps because (like all of us) I trained myself to believe (from an early age) that it’s a serious game with serious consequences which means that once I go in I’ll lose (most of) my freedom to be and live as I please—at least, based on what I’ve experienced so far. This prospect feels quite frightening to me. Hence the fixation. Somewhere there is a fear of failure buried in all this I guess, which implies that I buy into the idea of success as well: the idea that I can do it the right way with the right people at the right time, etc.—the perfect recipe for paralysis, isn’t it. If there is the right way then there is the wrong way too which I can only avoid by making sure that I find the right way which, of course, doesn’t exist outside wishful thinking. There are only different ways which I deem right or wrong on the go.
So this is it, I think: I’m terrified of the constantly shape-shifting field of life in which I’m just your next blade of grass. There is nothing that stays. Everything strays.
So why not do it anyway then? If there is nothing to lose, if there’s nothing that matters after all, why not go in all the way? How elegant—you taunt—to deal with impermanence & separation you resort to shutting down. If you can’t get it all you don’t want any of it then! Classic case of having the sulks.
True, instead of freedom all I manage to keep is a distance, a sense of separateness and anxiety about impermanence—the source of all my (inter)personal issues. When I talk about the importance of transparency (to self (first) and (then) others) it’s because I’m struggling with it. I want resolution, an escape from incompleteness. I want to figure out & transcend the messiness of it. At bottom, I just want to be someone special.
Ironic.
In posts like this, all I’m basically doing is broadcasting my personal process. What I talk about is only relevant to me, but at least, those of me who resonate may benefit too. By speaking out, I give reassurance, I validate parts of our madness.

From an abstract distance, it seems that each one of us is involved in some kind of a loop, an existential loop of our own making, a reality tunnel (as they say) that makes total sense (to us) on the inside but not so much (to the others) on the outside. Everything that is true is real but not everything that is real is true.

Align With The Truth Of The Moment

cultivate your capacity to listen to your body
relentlessly,
tune into its ripples
by relaxing into them a bit more every single day

notice the signals on ever subtler scales

does your body temp drop after ingesting certain foods
do you have blood-sugar dips (triggering cortisol surges) throughout the day

where is the tipping point for each of your stimulant,
do you notice after what point does listening to music, for instance, start depleting (rather than stimulate) you energetically

how much rest do you still need to fully recover from the energetic deficit you have incurred during those stressful hours

do you go to bed when you feel like doing so or when you know you are supposed to

track the see-saw of give and take
take ownership of your triggers and fluctuations

listen

let go of the echoes that riddle your awareness and haunt your conscience
trust the cues within

here is another gem from Marcus:

“The conscious liar sins to the extent that his deceit causes injustice: the unconscious liar to the extent that he is out of tune with the nature of the Whole and out of order with the nature of the ordered universe against which he fights. And it is fighting when he allows himself to be carried in opposition to the truth. He has received the prompts from nature: by ignoring them he is now incapable of distinguishing false from true