A student describes the overwhelming, upending experience of recognizing how deeply held assumptions about avoidance and control have shaped her life, and the teacher reflects on the necessity of meeting fullness before encountering emptiness.
A student describes the overwhelming, upending experience of recognizing how deeply held assumptions about avoidance and control have shaped her life, and the teacher reflects on the necessity of meeting fullness before encountering emptiness.
I always bring my Catholic upbringing into this, not because I'm Catholic, but just the upbringing. I think it has to do with these collective images of whatever it is I created as "the kingdom of heaven." There is an existence to it, a beingness to it. So the notion of emptiness…
That's the door. In general, it is often necessary to first journey with the fullness, to become okay with fullness, before we can recognize the emptiness. Otherwise, it can be too much.
This might not have anything to do with it, but it's funny. I was looking at these little coincidences too. For the most part of my life, I've considered myself an introvert, a recluse. And lately I've been feeling how reclusive I am in my own home, with my time. Yet I absolutely adore going into the fullness of life when I step out. It's important for me that there is movement outward. It kind of challenged something: maybe I'm not as introverted as I thought. I actually want to be with people, surrounded with noise and activity. I don't know if it has anything to do with this, but it's something I had been noticing lately.
The pattern of avoidance
I'm not even sure what I need to say, but I just wanted to speak. There's so much I can't even articulate. It's all at once. But I'm going to repeat what I said before: this idea you've shared a few times, to people and just this evening. It's so powerful to me I can't even express it. It's like it's against my religion. Talk about beliefs. It's like, if the door seems closed, then I don't go there. If I feel stuck, then I go somewhere else. If it's not working, well, then it's not working. This whole way I've lived my life.
I don't know how it's connected, but somehow what comes up is this need to land. "I'm this, I'm that. I know this, I don't know that. I got it." Like I'm running after butterflies. And maybe it's so overwhelming to see how flipped it has been.
Nothing to solve
I feel upended right now. Extremely upended. At the same time, there's so much gratitude, because that's it. That's it. It's like, go to that. There's no place not to go. It's just here. There's nothing to solve.
I feel upended. All upside down. And there's something exhilarating about it, and there's something so, I guess, contrary to what I've ever allowed. It's what I've always tried to avoid. That's what I'm saying. This is what I've always tried to avoid.
The horribleness of seeing it
It feels horrible. The horribleness of it is what's coming up. Going in the wrong direction. There is no wrong direction, but believing things that aren't true.
Fighting.
Fighting. Maybe.