That email feels significant—not because it repairs the whole relationship, but because affection found expression without waiting for the relationship to become different.
When I sent that email to my dad, I was aware that the most important thing was my sending it, not what sort of response I got, but I’m happy to report that I got a nice long friendly email back.
Notice how mind locates “home” in the past: the intact family, the first house, the child before intense selfing. Yet those are memories arising now. The guitar’s warmth, tenderness and ache are happening now. Perhaps home isn’t a childhood state to recover, but something in experiencing that has been forgotten but was never actually lost.
OK, yeah: “home” as something that can be experienced
now.
When the guitar evokes home, look before the images and biography arrive: How does “home” announce itself in the body?
Hmm . . . Well, acoustic guitar can evoke a wistful nostalgia for “home,” a combination of warmth and beauty and sadness and longing. But I’m not sure I can pinpoint any of that in the body.
Does it have an age, a location—or anyone who needs to be doing that?
No, none of that.
Perhaps the more important question is not about the feeling of wistful longing for home but about the feeling of home by itself — what it is that’s being longed for — a sense of comfort, warmth, belonging, rightness, relaxation, coziness.
(I considered adding support or safety to that list, but they don’t seem to be at the core of it. I also considered adding love or friendship, but they don’t quite seem to belong either, though that seems odd. Maybe companionship is a little closer? But that's kind of included in “belonging.” Hm.)
But notice the subtle trap: “Very soon, K will find no K—and then K will possess the certainty that seeking has ended.”
Seeking may continue to arise through conditioning. Its disappearance isn’t proof of no-self;
Yeah. OK. Right.
(I might be guiding myself just fine sometimes, but this is the sort of thing where it’s really good to have another person as a guide and companion. I’m immensely grateful for you, vince. And I prefer these tears of gratitude to some of the other kinds of tears that have arisen during this process, though they’ve had their place too.)
So:
Seeking might continue due to conditioning, and that’s fine.
Seeking doesn’t have to completely vanish.
the question is whether an actual seeker can be found now.
Was this hope selected? Is anyone generating it? If seeking never vanished completely, would that make a separate seeker real?
No to all of that.
I’m trying to figure out how to file that . . .
So, when I notice seeking, there’s no need for dismay.
Just look to see whether a supposed seeker (the one who hopes to be taken somewhere or somewhen else called “home”) can be found here and now.
(Hmm. The seeker can't be found at all; "home" can be found here and now.)
Seeking doesn’t mean there’s a seeker.
Seeking doesn’t mean that no-self hasn’t been seen.
I filed this from one of your recent stories:
A particularly clever trap appears late in the journey:
I need to stop seeking.
. . . . .
The seeker can survive indefinitely by attempting to eliminate the seeker.
Notice the comedy.
Comedy noted.
Something I was noticing last night and this morning:
It seems that one of the main reasons I keep chattering to myself in my head a lot of the time is that I forget that I’d prefer not to. As soon as I notice I’m chattering away, I go, “Oh yeah,” and it drops, and I return attention to sense perceptions (at least momentarily, before the chatter starts up again). It seems like being in the here and now, or at least returning to the here and now, is, at this point, largely a matter of remembering to.
This observation went along with a more vague sense that seeing everything as THIS might also be very simple and might just be a matter of remembering to — or something like that. I'm not sure.