A student describes an unexpected sense of well-being that persists even through illness and busy thinking, and wonders whether something is wrong with feeling this good.
A student describes an unexpected sense of well-being that persists even through illness and busy thinking, and wonders whether something is wrong with feeling this good.
I'm finding, and it's a strange thing to say, that I'm more in well-being. A part of me feels like there's something wrong with me for not suffering more.
I knew you were going to say that.
It's strange. Even when I've been sick or dealing with a lot of thoughts, all of that seems to bother me less. I think it's also related to doing more of what I actually want in my life, moment to moment. I'm having fewer nightmares. And there's a part of me that just feels like this is weird. So I wanted to ask about that.
Addiction to identity
The answer is yes. You might have forgotten, but you once asked whether well-being is a more natural state. The answer is yes.
We become addicts so young that we think the addicted state is normal. Then you suffer, you go through a withdrawal, and it's difficult. But then something starts to feel good, and you think it's strange. What's actually happening is that you're coming into a natural state of health. It can even be scary to feel that well-being, because we're so identified with the struggle and the suffering.
When I say "addicts," I mean the addiction to thought as a way to not experience reality. That is the root of all real addictions, including what we'd more conventionally call addiction to substances.
How would you define addiction to thought? You can also be in well-being with a lot of thought and not be addicted, right?
Yes, it's more specifically the process of identifying with thought. It's the addiction to knowing what we are.
There is a healthy process in having an identity. But it becomes too much, too limited, too narrow, too real, rather than just something that naturally helps us function.
Thinking is not the problem
The important thing is that you're discovering this well-being and you can tell it is not obstructed by thinking. In spiritual practice especially, there's often a very deep belief that thinking is the problem, that thought itself is the enemy, and so we need to stop thought or stop thinking. But it's not the problem. It's very specifically the belief through which we know what we are.
I even notice some remnant fears. I've been through many years of discipline with meditation, sitting several times a week, and a lot of structure. And I keep thinking in this old way, as though there's something you lose if you're not maintaining a certain discipline. But I recognize those as remnant fears from that type of thinking, which is no longer in accordance with my actual experience.
Practice in service to well-being
I wouldn't say we transcend that, but it's important to see that a practice is not an end in itself. We often need the foundation and the discipline, though not always and not for everybody. But at some point, if you stop doing it, it doesn't mean you're going backwards.
The important thing is that you're recognizing this well-being, because a practice is ultimately in service to this well-being. That's what it's for.
It's hard to say, "I have well-being because this or that happened, because I achieved this, because I got that." But you're describing the opposite. You're describing a well-being that persists in spite of circumstances. That's a true well-being, a deep well-being. And that, for me, is what a spiritual practice is about.
Returning to practice from a different place
You can go back to your practice. You don't need to stop it. But you can return to it from a different place: a place of exploring, of going deeper, of curiosity, rather than from a place of need, discipline, or fear.
I say this to you because you're describing this well-being, and it is the deepest freedom, especially if there's no cause for it. The mind can always come up with causes. You might point to the fact that you're doing what you want to do. And there is a freedom in finally being able to do what you've always wanted. But even saying it that way, I'm not sure I can call it a direct cause. There's just more space.