When All Possibilities Collapse Into One
Tasting What Is: The Chef and the Guest
September 4, 2024
dialogue

When All Possibilities Collapse Into One

Cuando todas las posibilidades colapsan en una

A student shares an overwhelming and inexplicable fear that has arisen alongside a major life decision, and the teacher helps trace it not to withdrawal, but to the terror of full commitment.

When All Possibilities Collapse Into One

A student shares an overwhelming and inexplicable fear that has arisen alongside a major life decision, and the teacher helps trace it not to withdrawal, but to the terror of full commitment.

I don't think I've ever been so afraid. The experience I'm having is that I'm drifting away, hanging by a thread of what I know reality to be, because otherwise nothing has the concreteness I thought it had. I don't fully know why I'm so afraid. I don't have a lot more words to add. It's just fear, fear, fear. And then you start talking and I start crying. It feels like a lot, to be honest.

It's not just a lot. It's everything.

There's a terrifying sense that I'm going to drift away from everything I have tried so hard to belong to. What if I don't find my way back?

You say "drift away" and you made this gesture, as though moving outward. Away in what way? In what sense? Away from what?

It really feels as if what I know, the earth, is here, and I'm drifting away from it. I feel disconnected from something I have known for so long.

The fear of withdrawal

I'm asking because I have a sense that you're referring to a kind of withdrawal.

A little bit, yes. That's the fear. It's so strange, because at the same time I've never been more active in the world. And the fear is as if I am literally withdrawing. I think, "Wait a minute, wasn't I going in the opposite direction?" I don't know if it's withdrawing exactly, but yes, drifting out. And it brings a lot of fear. A lot.

It's both directions. If you really go into the world, and this work is about going into the world, into experience, into this, into now, then it's not rejecting or denying anything. It's open to all creativity, all dreams, but it's always now. In a sense, something can dissolve as we go deeper and deeper into this. But the gesture you're making seems like you're talking about a disconnect, about something being pushed away.

Well, that is the fear, right? That is when the fear comes: something is vanishing and I'm going to disconnect from it.

But let's suppose you are disconnecting from something you don't want to lose, or something that should not be lost. What would that be? Because I have a sense that the fear of disconnection is actually not the true fear.

The loss of concreteness

I'm not sure. There's a sensation about it. It's very uncomfortable. It has to do with the concreteness of everything. Sometimes these days, when I find myself with this fear, it's like a vertigo too. The concreteness of the world is not so concrete.

That is true, though.

And in that moment, the fear that it's all going to vanish and I'm going to drift away is very strong.

When the concreteness of everything vanishes, that includes the concreteness of what we think we are. So you can't go away. You can't go somewhere else.

You can't. I don't think this is logical. It's just a fear that is coming up a lot.

I'm curious whether you have some sense of what it's about.

I'm not sure.

You can see that you're not what you think you are, but you really, truly cannot go away.

It's not so much about "I." It's more about the world. But yes, I do have a difficulty feeling fear. This is the first time I've felt, "Why am I feeling so much fear?"

The pattern: act first, feel later

There could easily be some reasons for this.

You mean for what is happening in my life? Yes. I can see that too.

You've made a huge decision in life, one that brings your life into the most concrete form. Concrete as in walls, the built structure of a life.

You're right. I was feeling this just this morning. I remember lying on my couch, watching the sunrise, and I thought, "This is what I do. I go forward onto things, onto everything, and then after a little while I realize it's frightening." But I don't feel it at first. I feel it after. And I'm really afraid. I have done that with everything, but it's the only way I know how to do things: go.

A perfectly fine way to do them. It seems to work well for you.

Go and smash my face, and then, yes. But it's a lot. I've never felt so afraid of anything.

Commitment as the death of possibility

I think it's not just the fear of the circumstances, which could also be scary, the fear of making those choices. It's also the fear that comes when we leave the universe of possibilities and the imagination, and we kill all of those possibilities by making a choice.

Oh, that's beautiful.

There's a commitment where it collapses all of the possibilities into one. Everything, in the sense of those possibilities, ends. In Spanish, I prefer the word encarnar. In English it's "embodiment," but the Spanish root of the word is flesh. So it's a coming into the flesh. To incarnate.

That actually makes a lot of sense, because before, everything is open for the mind to keep playing around with.

And the size of the choice you're making is, at this level in your life, probably the biggest. In the sense that with many other choices, there's always a possibility that things can change. The same is true here, but this one is huge.

Being seen in the choice

The crazy thing is it feels so mundane and at the same time it's such a big deal. The circumstances are actually very mundane. I'm looking to buy an apartment here in Vancouver. It's been years of my journey, and it's all of that. I'm not going into it with any sense of smallness. I actually feel very excited and happy, and all of that is part of the experience too. But I didn't realize I was so afraid. So afraid.

I'm so grateful, in a way. I don't know why it's such a big deal, but when I go to see these places and something becomes a possibility, and if you're aware of Vancouver, the real estate market is intense, you have to compete for places. When I walk out of a viewing, the world is different. Suddenly nothing is as concrete as I thought it was. Everything moves. So when you say you have the sense that the fear is not what it seems to be...

The ride has already started

My sense is that it's not the fear of going away. Because you're moving in such an opposite direction, it's probably a reaction.

I agree. It's strange that I feel like drifting away when I'm moving in exactly the opposite direction.

You're probably going into an internal withdrawal to cope with what you've decided and the journey you're going into. You've put something in motion that will be difficult to stop. It's very likely you'll end up buying something. The roller coaster has started in a direction that will be hard to reverse. You would have to fight with it a great deal for it not to manifest. The ride is starting and you know this. It feels like you might be withdrawing, like you might go away, and that's the fear. But the fear is actually the ride.

It really helped when you said that making a choice collapses a complete universe of possibilities into one thing. There's something in that for me too. I've made choices in my life, but it's been a journey of leaving things very open. This, in a sense, puts an end to all of those possibilities. You can still change course, you can sell, but at one level it's a massive dive and commitment. It's a commitment at a scale I don't know if I've ever made so consciously before. It's not only the magnitude; it's making the choice very, very consciously.