A student describes the relief of glimpsing spaciousness beyond the separate self, yet feels caught in a push-pull between that openness and the intensity of personal experience. The teacher explores the hidden love we have for our own storminess, and how peace and intensity can coexist.
A student describes the relief of glimpsing spaciousness beyond the separate self, yet feels caught in a push-pull between that openness and the intensity of personal experience. The teacher explores the hidden love we have for our own storminess, and how peace and intensity can coexist.
I feel that space is very open and there's a lot of love. And then something comes and thinks it has to do something with it. Stress wants to hold it, and sometimes I ask myself if it's just a good energy that I feel, and in the end it's not really "it." Sometimes I feel what is being pointed to, and then I'm not sure; maybe it's also just an experience I'm holding on to. Do you know what I mean?
I think I know what you're talking about. It's common that at first, in the journey home, there are certain experiences we have. You'll notice them because there are certain states, feelings, emotions, movements in the body. In a sense, these are confirmations or validations of the direction of the movement that is happening. There is a resonance. But then it's very common to interpret those experiences as the arrival at something, and so we get a little attached. That's very normal; it's just part of the process.
It has to do with a bit of fear, worry, or anxiety. First of all, it feels good, so we want more. But there's also a worry that something is lost, or that something's not okay with us without feeling a certain recognizable flavor of some feeling or energy.
Recognizing what we're actually looking for
You could see this as something that takes time. We start to recognize that what we're actually looking for is present in all experiences. It's even in the pain, even in the stormy mind. For most people this unfolds gradually. For some, it happens suddenly, and it's not fun.
It's that normal human thing, and then hearing about this, feeling the pull that I really go for it, and then having the relief when I feel like I got it. It's like I'm not my center anymore, and that is such a big relief.
Sometimes when I was under so much pressure in life, I had this fantasy of escape, of just ending it all so everything would be okay. With non-duality, it's a little bit the same. I feel the relief that I'm not the center anymore, that there is some escape from the hell of being caught in all of this. There's much more space. I can relax. It's just happening.
But then there is also something: if I'm really going to die, if that really happens, then I can't enjoy it. I feel like I'm in between. Part of me is asking, "What am I doing?" I can't quite explain it. Maybe you feel it. Maybe I don't even have a question. It is a question, but maybe it's not burning enough.
No, it's burning. I think it's what I was referring to as this push and pull. There are different energies, and a part of you in this process, in this life, is very attached to intensity and storminess.
The aesthetic of intensity
There is something for us to recognize: we elicit stormy mental and emotional experiences because there's something in them that has an aesthetic quality, as much as it can be painful or uncomfortable. I'm using the word "aesthetic" because it's like people who go to a museum and look at a picture of war and think, "Wow." There's a sense of beauty, an attraction, even a love for being in this storm that is horrible and that we want out of.
If you didn't want to end the storm, there wouldn't be a storm. The only way you can experience a storm is by wanting to be in it and wanting it to end at the same time. It's the perfect storm. If you end it, you're going to miss it. And if you're just in a storm and you love it, it's not a storm. It's only a storm if you don't want it and you want it to end.
Notice how there's this savoring of it: "This is me." There is an enjoyment in that savoring. And there is a beauty to it. I'm not saying something is wrong. There is, to the divinity in us, an actual beauty in this. What a story. What a journey. We have the freedom to create experiences of endless possibility.
Why do we do this?
You were asking in the beginning, "Why do we do this?" I don't think there's one answer, because the "why" is infinite. But if I were to say something, it's to savor that journey. At some point, you might get tired of a certain storminess and want something else. But in the meantime, savor it.
I want to use more careful words here. I'm not speaking to the part of you that doesn't want the storm and telling that part to savor it. No. I'm talking to the part of you that savors it already, that is having a certain deep, secret enjoyment of it. There is nothing wrong with that. I'm simply saying: recognize it, so you can recognize the energy that creates this cycle of storm, peace, storm, peace.
We are creators, not victims
In that push and pull, an experience is being created. We propagate this when we think we are victims of it, when we think it's happening to us. But in a very deep sense, we are creators. There is a certain drive and motive behind it. I'm talking from experience of loving the storm. And the storm can only exist when I want it to end.
So if I'm fighting it, you mean there's going to be a splitting?
Yes. There's a part of you that wants to have this big experience, but it's crazy and stormy and fearful. And there's a part that wants rest and peace. There's a whole energizing of what I'm calling storminess, and that is what you're talking about, what you're experiencing.
What I'm trying to point to is that there's a deep place in you that has a valid love for this. I'm trying to describe it in a way so that it doesn't seem like something is wrong with you. Do you recognize what I'm referring to?
I heard this: this intense seeking of intensity and storminess. I felt what you said more than I understood it.
Having the cake and eating it too
And so I would even say you don't have to let go of that. In the meditation, I said: you can have the cake and eat it too. You can be fully at peace and live in a storm. And actually, you are already free from that storm. The more we honor that which we love, the more we will find the peace in what we are. You'll be free to move that energy in more and more creative ways. I'm not talking necessarily about art; I mean life creation. You'll be able to hear more deeply what your heart longs to create: what kind of journey, storm or non-storm.
I did not expect this answer.
Neither did I. You can be at peace and in a storm. You don't have to lose the capacity to experience storminess. Savor it. Love it.
Thank you.
You're welcome.