Something Rather Than Nothing
Algo en lugar de nada
A question about the persistent sense of identification with a limited self, and how self-inquiry and deeper desire work together to dissolve it.
Something Rather Than Nothing
A question about the persistent sense of identification with a limited self, and how self-inquiry and deeper desire work together to dissolve it.
There is a phrase from the Bhagavad Gita I was thinking about: "Being is; non-being is not." Another version: there is something rather than nothing.
I was thinking of that phrase because I recently read an article that was shared in the group. I really liked it, and I also really liked the comments you put on it. But the sense it left me with was as if it were saying there is nothing rather than something. My feeling is the opposite: there is something rather than nothing. And it's so powerful that it seems like one of the only things, or the most real thing, you can say about being. There is something that is no thing, that is not a thing, rather than nothing.
Maybe there's something extra beyond that, some kind of intuitional experience or knowing. But I still identify a lot with the ego. It brings me suffering, and I'm seeing it more clearly, but there's also this feeling that it shouldn't be happening to me, or that maybe I can hurry the disidentification along.
The difference between "no self" and "where you look for a self, there is none"
There are many things there. What that article is pointing to is a different recognition than beingness, and that's why it can be misinterpreted.
My comment was about a subtle thought or belief that can arise when we hear "there is no self." We interpret it from the perspective of being a separate self and then denying that. So it becomes a belief that "I am the body, but the body is not real," or "I am a thought, but the thought is not real." That can create a lot of conflict and struggle.
In Buddhism, where the concept of anatta originates (and which the neuroscientists are now picking up on after working with Buddhists for a few decades), the way it has been taught is: where you find a self, there is not a self. That is different from "there is no self." It's closer to neti neti: what I am is not this, it's not that.
But ultimately, the realization of no self can happen. It's very difficult to describe. First there is beingness, there is something rather than nothing, and that's the ground. But within this beingness, we confuse a part of our being with ourselves. We identify with a part.
You described the belief in being ego. But ego is just a concept, a word. When you say "I still believe I am my ego," that phrase will bring up an object in imagination, but there will still be the belief in a subject that is referring to the ego, and that subject is taken to be the self. There is a subtle objectification of this subject.
What can happen is that this sense of a separate subject is seen to be no different from everything else being experienced. The subject is another thought. What we are doing is condensing the experience of beingness into a point: "I am in here, and the rest is not me, it's over there." That is an optical illusion.
When that is seen through, then that beingness, which is something rather than nothing (the experience that now there is sound, there is touch, there is something rather than nothing), loses the sense of a "me" separate from it.
Looking for the center
You can explore this in many ways. You could look for that sense of a subject and see that it is going to be a constant movement of thoughts. You could look for the one that chooses and see that choices come, appear, and are made by something you cannot find. You could look at the sense of "I am the one that chooses" and find just a flow of sensations and thoughts. Everything you look at to find this center, this subject, this source, you will notice that something is noticing that.
If something is noticing that, again, something is not a thing. But there's no word to point to that which is everything, because language simply cannot function there. That's why words like beingness, consciousness, or even God are used, though God brings up the history of religion, the objectified God as a separate entity, so I avoid it.
There is a real shift that can happen, and it should not be denied, because there would be a great loss in doing so. When I point to "this is it," I don't mean there is nothing you can do. I'm pointing in the direction of a recognition, and that recognition can happen. It just cannot happen in the next second or tomorrow. It only happens now, when a certain illusion is seen through. And when that happens, you realize everything always was as it should be. Nothing is missing, and nothing ever was missing. Nothing changes, really.
Why identification feels so stubborn
But this identification with a limited concept of ourselves, why is it so difficult? Is it a habit so ingrained because it was taught and reinforced from such a young age, with so many layers? What you describe about watching the subject and the sense of "me" and noticing it's thought, I am doing that a lot. But in ordinary life, I'm constantly believing I'm a separate entity.
The work you're doing is good. The answer to "why" is that there is a transition. It could happen faster or slower, more progressively in steps or more suddenly all at once. But it's a transition where something very specific to the human body-mind in this identification is at play. It serves us to not be in touch with aspects of our reality. And so when this transition happens, those aspects come up. I always point to this as the experience of fear and pain. It can have many flavors, variations, and colors. We choose to remain identified because it helps us not feel that.
Two kinds of work in parallel
In a sense, there are two kinds of work that can be done in parallel. One is the self-inquiry you're talking about: looking at the subject, looking for the center. The other complements it, because as you do more self-inquiry, things start to unravel and break open. Psychologically, things get a little stormier. Feelings arise, kinds of fear and pain that start to surface. That can then stabilize, and you can go deeper with more self-inquiry.
So if you find that the inquiry you're doing is plateauing, you could ask yourself what it is you're avoiding in life. What fears, loves, passions do you have that are being pushed aside?
For that, I often ask the question: what does the universe want to live through you, or as you? I phrase it that way because it's not "what do you want," which can be understood as something personal, invoking an answer that comes more from identification, from the small self, the egoic self. But if you ask, "What does the universe want as me?" then it's the whole of totality wanting something, wanting to live or create as me.
The body's perspective is valid. The ego's perspective is valid. The person's perspective is valid. The universe's perspective is valid. But I'm pointing beyond all of those. If the body is hungry, the body needs food. But that's not the kind of question I'm asking. I'm not asking about the body or the egoic self. I'm asking about the universal self.
It's the kind of question where, if you imagine your life ending, you ask: what do I want to live before that? That can invoke a sense of "Oh yes, I want to live something" that, until that moment, was obscured because you were focused on smaller wants.
The hand and the weightlifter
When we get in touch with that universal want, we have to operate from that universal self, and that's going to push through the identification with a smaller self. It's going to put you in a position where you have to choose between a smaller or a bigger energy, movement, desire, self.
I would say one hundred percent of our suffering is because we choose to identify with a smaller part of ourselves and to operate based on the needs and wants of that smaller part. You could think of this as a progressive expanding. If I focus on what my hand wants, what feels good for my hand, I would get a manicure, put it in warm water all day, never do anything effortful. But that's not what I want, even at the level of the body. At the level of the body, I might want to weightlift. For the hand, that's a sacrificial moment. For the body, it's a beautiful experience: healthy, empowering. But for the hand, it's a constant sacrifice.
If I focus on the hand, I would experience it as sacrifice. If I'm not focused on the hand, I wouldn't even recognize the hand is in a sacrificial moment. I'll adjust the weight so I don't hurt my hand in any improper way, but experientially, there will be the struggle of the weightlifting alongside a sense of empowerment, energy, aliveness.
You can take that to a deeper level. If the body wants to weightlift but I'm identified with a hand that doesn't want to, I'll inquire, "Why am I weightlifting? I don't want this," because I believe I'm the hand. I'll do anything I can to avoid recognizing that I want to weightlift, because for the hand it's a sacrifice.
In that sense, if I'm in avoidance and denial of a deeper desire, one that puts my sense of self at risk, one that puts my experience in an uncomfortable situation of fear and pain, then the self-inquiry is going to be disempowered.
Freedom as full obedience
I really like how you shift the focus to "what does the universe want to do as me." Something resonates there, and it seems like there can be more and more layers.
Just deeper and deeper. Because we only ever resist what the universe is wanting.
Our teacher once said that freedom is full obedience. There's a paradox in that: ultimate freedom comes when you are fully obedient to now, to what the universe wants now. It is freedom because it is freedom from the identification with that small self that stands in opposition. It's just the belief in that small self that creates the opposition.
So, back to what you were bringing up: the obstacle is simply the experience of shifting from identification with something smaller to something larger. That shift will bring up fear and pain.