Attention keeps on focusing on the thought of wanting what's currently happening to be recognized differently. Like it is zeroing in on that one frame of experience and not willing to let go. It's more or less like the thought isn't fueling attention but the attention keeps trying to project it to happen. To find something out of nothing.
That's what can't rest. The attention trying to specifically look for anything it can within that framework. It's relentless.
It's not being bombarded with thoughts. It's about attention just keeps holding onto a narrow focus, no matter whether there's anything inside or not. Like a camera man impatiently waiting irregardless of if there is a zebra in frame or not. Just shaking over it incessantly.
That's a much clearer description.
Notice something subtle.
You said:
>
"Attention keeps trying..."
Does it?
Or is there simply
attention narrowly focused, followed by a thought describing it as "trying"?
Your cameraman analogy is good.
The cameraman doesn't have to be relaxed. He doesn't have to find the zebra. He can stand there all day pointing the camera at an empty field.
The pointing is just what's happening.
The suffering doesn't come from the narrow attention.
It comes from the next thought:
>
"This shouldn't still be happening."
or
>
"If only attention would let go..."
What if it never lets go?
Really.
What if this exact pattern remained for the next ten years?
Could that, too, simply be another box?
Because the thing you're waiting for is not relaxed attention.
You're waiting for attention to stop being attention.
Why?
Who decided that attention has to widen?
Maybe this is exactly how this organism investigates. Maybe relentless focus is simply one of its patterns.
Don't try to relax the camera.
Just notice that even the camera never belonged to anyone.
Huh. The best thing I can point this out in is like, let's say you want to do something but you are afraid or nervous or fearful of the outcome. It really highlights the resistance. You really want to do X but you're scared of Y. But the resistance, Z is like the dilemma.
You see the resistance. Sometimes you end up going through even with the scared still present and the resistance still present. Other times you don't.
Seeing the resistance just doesn't really seem to have any effect at all on what ends up happening. If it did, you'd always do 1 of the options. But instead that doesn't happen. The choice that gets made happens without regard to resistance. Resistance I guess isn't the motivator then. It's just a character playing a supporting role
Exactly.
That's a significant observation.
You've noticed that resistance is
information, not
causation.
The story says:
>
"If I could get rid of the fear, then I'd act."
But experience says otherwise.
Sometimes:
* Fear.
* Resistance.
* Action.
Other times:
* Fear.
* Resistance.
* No action.
The resistance doesn't determine the outcome.
Nor does recognizing the resistance.
Recognition is another event.
Resistance is another event.
Action is another event.
Sometimes they correlate. Sometimes they don't.
That's why you've started seeing life more like a river than a decision tree controlled by someone.
One tiny thing I'd invite you to look at, though:
You called resistance a "supporting role."
Does it even have a role?
Or is that still giving it more importance than it deserves?
Perhaps resistance is just another appearance—no different, fundamentally, from a sound, an itch, or a passing thought.
It doesn't need to justify itself.
It simply appears... and whatever happens next, happens next.
