When Sensations No Longer Need to Stop
Cuando las sensaciones ya no necesitan detenerse
A question about tracing the sense of lack back to bodily contractions, and whether freedom depends on those sensations finally going away.
When Sensations No Longer Need to Stop
A question about tracing the sense of lack back to bodily contractions, and whether freedom depends on those sensations finally going away.
I'd like to explore this with you. That sense of lack, when I try to trace it back, it seems really hard to define. I can feel it when it's there, but around it there can be different contractions in the body, in deep muscular places. If I were to put a thought to it, it's like a "no." During the guided meditations and in between, I've been feeling into that. The contractions can be painful, and then if they release, there's more of an energy of movement. Sometimes it seems like I'm then able to access something like, "This is what was always longed for." Maybe I'm putting it into a process too much.
That sense of lack is quite embodied. What I hear you saying is that instead of tasting that contraction in the body directly, we can go to the thoughts. That's the game: go to the thoughts and say, "This is what I need to do in time to make this contraction, or whatever it is in sensation, go away."
The sense of lack is not the sensations
But the key here is that the sense of lack isn't the sensations. Specifically, the sense of lack can be completely gone and there can still be discomfort, pain, or emotional work needing to be done. Otherwise we go into an infinite loop: assuming that the sense of lack will be removed once I process this pain, as if the pain actually is the sense of lack.
If you look closely, it's really about normalizing those sensations. For me, for example, there was a lot that had to do with actual physical pain, chronic pain. I had a tendency to be more somatic, though I also did a great deal of emotional work, going through emotional pain and trauma. But even after processing a lot of it, there were discomforts around chronic pain. Even when it became more and more subtle, I still identified it as pain, and I identified it as the last remaining problem. "If only that resolved, I will be okay. If only that went away, then everything would be at peace." That was a very deep attachment. I was not willing to accept the possibility that there could be peace even with those sensations present.
So that categorization, which I can really relate to, of "when this somatic work reaches a certain place, then I will be free," that's the thought you're pointing to?
Freedom is not conditioned on sensations stopping
Yes. Let me distinguish clearly. One orientation says: there are these difficult sensations, emotions, physical and emotional experiences, and if I process them, if I work through them, they will finally be gone forever, and then I would be at peace. Peace is conditioned on these experiences fully stopping or stopping ninety-five percent of the time.
Where freedom truly is, is when I am no longer needing those sensations to go away. The processing is not for them to go away or stop. It's what I called normalizing: it is completely fine that they're present. It is completely fine if they were to be present for the rest of my life, and not in some kind of resignation. They are absolutely, completely fine. There is no problem with them whatsoever.
I resonate with that. That has been happening. So seeing that thought process is a lot of what we're talking about.
Yes, because the attachment to the belief that "if this were to go away, then I would be at peace; if this were to stop forever, then I would be at peace," that is what creates the turmoil. That is the seeking. It is seeking in time, seeking for something, seeking to control what reality is. And seeking to do the impossible, because it's not controllable. It's like trying to stop a river.
The impulse to turn away
It's really interesting to notice that what I was experiencing in the meditation was, "I don't want to hear this. I don't want this." And then in this moment, there's a kind of freedom around what you're saying.
Even that insight is valuable. You could have that experience, have that thought, and in a sense choose it by believing you really don't want this. Or you could see it differently: "Oh, there's something here that I really don't want to look at." That's a different angle, where there could be curiosity. What's happening here, that my mind is already trying to convince me to run away?
If you lean into that second option, you can discover something new. Something could open up. Obviously with discernment: there are situations where the experience of "I don't want to be here" is appropriate to honor. But when there's a mismatch, when you're simply sitting and listening to something and you feel like taking off, that mismatch could be a sign. It makes me curious: what's here? What am I actually close to feeling, close to experiencing?
I think there's a rawness, a directness. There's a choice, or something, to want to turn away. But then, as I often say, you can't unsee it. So you're kind of screwed.
Complete obedience as total freedom
My teacher used to say that absolute total freedom is complete obedience. You basically lose the ability to reject what is here now. You can talk about obedience to God, and metaphorically that's a very useful pointer, but I would just leave it simply: complete obedience. Complete flow with what is. Complete surrender. And that is total freedom. It is the freedom to just be with everything that is.
Responding to what you're saying about being "screwed" because you can no longer believe the paths you were taking: something is lost. Illusions are lost. In Spanish, the word "disillusion" is used as though something bad has happened, like disappointment. But it's actually the ending of illusion. And there is a disappointment. That's waking up. The dream is over.
It feels really free and really raw. That's all I have to say.
The rough transition
There is a transitional period, and naturally there is a back and forth. But that transition can really not feel great. The losing of illusions brings loss, rawness, uncertainty, a sense of being lost. Everything that had meaning is losing its meaning, and that period can be pretty rough.
The encouragement is to just keep looking, keep trusting that there is something that can be arrived at. It's not a place, exactly. It's more like: when all illusions are gone, that negative quality goes with them as well, and there is a beauty that starts to shine through.
I can feel that. And also, you've gone down that other road so many times before, going in time, telling a story. You know it's not real. You can only play it for so long.
It reminds me of a moment in the movie The Matrix, where Neo is in this process of deciding whether to go see the teacher. He wants to run away because he's freaking out, and they say, "Sure, you want to go? Here's the door. But you've been down that road. You know where it leads." That moment captures it perfectly. That's just not it. Not the way.
Thank you.
You're welcome.