The Flower You Didn't See
La flor que no viste
A student describes losing interest in everything after disengaging from society's expectations. The teacher explores whether beauty and aliveness might already be present, waiting to be noticed.
The Flower You Didn't See
A student describes losing interest in everything after disengaging from society's expectations. The teacher explores whether beauty and aliveness might already be present, waiting to be noticed.
What's been coming up for me is mostly negative thought. Sometimes it's suicidal. It's just a thought. I don't even believe any of it, but it keeps coming up, and it is passing. There's no doing of any of it. It's just weird.
And what's your experience like, deeper than sensation? What's the feeling?
The feeling alongside these thoughts is something like falling off a cliff, like collapsing.
And is that your experience now?
It is, on and off. It's been like this for one or two months. But at the same time I'm okay with it. It's just felt and it's just passing. I consciously decide to tune into a kind of silent sound, a humming sound in my ear. I often tune into that.
You tune into silence, and what happens then with thought?
That's often what I do. And when I get lost in thoughts, I don't have too much problem with that. It's just what's passing.
What do you love?
What do you love in life? What calls you? What do you love doing?
I don't have anything. I've lost interest in almost everything.
And you don't experience beauty anywhere?
I think I've lost passion.
I'm not talking about passion.
This is the struggle for me: interpreting what others are saying. How do I interpret the word "beauty"? That involves interpreting, and interpreting has to be based on my past, my knowledge. So that becomes a reaction. What's the response? I don't think about it. But if we are going to speak, the past has to exist.
There are no words without past. But I don't understand what you just said. You're saying that my question about what is beautiful is hard for you because you have to interpret the word, and that brings up the past, and it becomes difficult to respond. But that's the case with everything happening at the level of this conversation. All the words we are exchanging are based on past.
We need to come to the place where there is past, where there is language and interpretation, and where there is a constant risk-taking. At every second you take the risk of interpreting someone's words, knowing that it's an interpretation, knowing you have no idea what the other person is really speaking about. You don't know their experience. But through words, you can take a leap. And there is, to me, a beauty in this experience and this exploration: to have a connection with this mystery. The mystery of you, the mystery of I, and the mystery that contains both.
At this point, I have a desire to just not be disturbed by anyone.
The empty cup
I understand that. Society wanted one thing, you wanted something else, you fought it, now you don't want any of it, there's no interest in anything. You just want to survive. You don't want to be bothered. You want money to eat and that's it, and nobody bothers you. But that's not good enough.
No, I know. But I don't like chasing any idea I have.
Don't chase. You don't need to chase. Chasing is what society dictates. There are other ways.
That's why I'm withdrawing. I'm withdrawing from chasing.
You are withdrawing, yes, and that's okay. But imagine you see a flower. You're walking, not chasing anything, not trying to follow society's rules. You're just walking to the grocery store to get your food so you can survive. And then there's a flower. You happen to see it. You're not trying to have some important experience, but you walk upon a flower and you might, by accident, see it and smell it. And there might be something beautiful in that flower, in the experience of it.
In all of this, there is no seeking, no trying, no pushing, no forcing. There is just being.
What you just said translates as something missing, something not yet being found.
It's right in front of you and it's not being seen. But it's okay. You know the saying: the cup is full, and it needs to be emptied for the new tea to come in. You are now in the empty cup.
I think it's not missing. I do feel it, literally. But somehow what you just said translates as "not being found yet."
Not being found yet, but right in front of you. It's like you're walking and there's a flower there, and you didn't see it, but it was right there. And that's a metaphor for every second. Every second. Not one split second, but every second of being fully.
The moment of lightness
Yes.
Why are you smiling? Why are you laughing?
There's no reason. It just felt light.
And how did feeling light feel?
Beautiful.
Bravo. So simple, isn't it?
It's not a thought involved in it. It just flows; the conversation just goes.
Yes. And it's constantly passing. This is not fixed. It's fluid, constantly passing. But whatever shows up, it's just passing.
Yeah, it touches me. Oh my god, I'm getting really hot, like an oven.
You're cooking. You're being cooked.
We'll be ready for Christmas.
The turkey is ready.
Creation without a center
Like we think we are deciding, but we don't.
But there is something. When I speak to you, I'm speaking to something mysterious that creates out of nothing, something that is free and creates spontaneously with no central authority dictating, choosing, or controlling. There is no centralized location of it, but it is creation, all of it creating. And that is free to create. And that's you.
I actually love that.
That's beautiful.
There's no reason. I just prefer that instead of whatever I used to believe. And it's random, and I give up planning.
There's no need to run anywhere. Just cook in that oven. But that's your heart. I'm sorry to say it: you have a heart that loves and finds beauty in life.
I actually feel it and see it many times.
So that's the direction. That's the way, and it's here. Not "the way" in the sense of going somewhere, but in the sense of clearing. Because right now you're having some interpretations about what's happening and what's real and what's true, based on a contrast with what was and what's changed.