The Seed of Disbelief
La Semilla de la Incredulidad
A student describes a strange, unfamiliar experience during meditation in which the usual sense of self seemed to dissolve, and the teacher explains how even a brief moment of disidentification from the constructed self can plant a seed that is difficult to forget.
The Seed of Disbelief
A student describes a strange, unfamiliar experience during meditation in which the usual sense of self seemed to dissolve, and the teacher explains how even a brief moment of disidentification from the constructed self can plant a seed that is difficult to forget.
Thank you very much, because it was a great space for going deep into something that I don't know what it was. Each of our friends who spoke was giving me a lot of information related to what you were saying. But I want to share this little part of my experience. When you were speaking during the meditation, I felt my ears, my eyes, my whole body. It was like points, like a ball in my body touching different points in my brain. My mind was there, too, trying to understand, but it was impossible. It was in my feet, in my belly, in my heart. It was something very different. I have never felt something like that. And my mind was, I would say, useless, because it could not say anything. I felt like a robot. What is the part of my consciousness that allowed me to be different, to understand in a different way? I cannot find the word for it: a total presence. I could sense a connection between my body and my mind, and yet I could not locate where I was, or what was happening. It was like a theater. When you and the others were speaking, I still could not understand. If you can say something to help me, it would be great. This has never happened to me before. I don't have any experience with drugs or mushrooms, so what is that? I just had the possibility of being calm and relaxed. It was a very good state.
What I'm hearing is very close to what I was pointing to in the meditation. I can't really know exactly what you experienced, but from what you're describing, it sounds to me like a kind of disidentification.
The mind's three functions
Since we were very young, we develop an inner dialogue, and it's not just in words. The mind only has three functions: images, sounds, and emotions. That's all the mind can do. But with the complexity of sounds, it creates an inner dialogue. With the complexity of images, it creates an image of "I" versus the world. And with the variation of emotions, it creates a sense of embodiment and attachment to a body.
But it's all a reflection. There is a raw, direct experience of sound, and then there is the reflection of sound in the mind. The same with images and emotions. You can see the mind as something that reflects and produces variations. Through that process, we can either look at reality or look at the mind. When we look at the mind, we create a separate world. This is the world of samsara, of maya, of illusion. We then project that on top of reality and believe the world of the mind to be more real than the world it's reflecting. In that construction, we create a "me" that is very localized, very specific. This is ego.
When the glitch happens
We are so convinced that this is what we are that when we have even a very subtle moment of separation from it, we are completely confused. You should see how some psychiatrists respond to exactly this. When you said, "I haven't been on drugs," that's precisely the kind of thing that can happen, and meditation has been the traditional way to create even a very brief disidentification.
What happens is that you don't know where you are. What are you? You don't know if you're in your eyes, or not in your eyes, or if you're in the wall. Where is the "I" that you always were? Where did it go? What am I? Who am I? All of this comes up, and it can be very unsettling. You said you were calm and at peace, which is good. Usually, for someone who is very new and hasn't done much practice, when this happens it can be a lot more shocking. But I think you have a lot of experience, and so there is something more prepared in you.
This is exactly where this work is headed: going to the place where that identification loosens, even if it's a tiny glimpse.
The seed that can't be unseen
Now, there is a seed that has been planted, which is the disbelief in what you used to believe. It's like believing in Santa Claus, and then one day you see your parent bringing a box from the toy store and hiding it, and later you receive that same box "from Santa." You think, "But that's the box my father brought." Now there's this question: what if Santa isn't real?
It's that kind of thing, but it concerns a really profound belief, a really profound identification, because it's what we thought we were practically since we were born. Even that one moment is the key, and I want to emphasize this. You've had a taste of "maybe I'm not what I think I am," but it's really just a taste. As I was saying in the meditation, I could take the position of a preacher and say, "You're not what you think you are; trust me, believe me." Or I could take the position of a scientist and use very specific directions for you to do your own investigation, so you try for yourself instead of just believing. Both approaches work, because one makes you wonder "what if," and the other makes you look. They are different approaches.
But the key is this: if that moment happens, there is now a seed of disbelief, because it's hard to go back. What can happen is that you think, "Well, that was just a mind glitch. My brain did something weird." And then you pretend nothing happened, that it was just some weird thing. But what you're describing, I think, is very important. It is that first taste where the core sense of "I" that you believed you were gets a little glitch. And then it's really strange.
Yes, many things are going differently in my life. This is very good information. It's just beautiful. No more words. It's enough. Thank you very much. I appreciate it a lot.
We are so vast and so free.