Re: I'm ready, Ilona. Will you help me?
Posted: Fri Sep 13, 2013 9:43 pm
I've had a curious interplay of seeing and not seeing, knowing and not over the past week or so. Can't tell if the moments of not seeing, not knowing are simple being or of slipping back into "me-ness." Thought that it's a little of both - sometimes more, sometimes less.
Curious to observe that when in another's presence and describing the in-the-moment experience of no-self, the knowing is clear and true. When just inside my own thoughts, it's the I/me/my business as usual…unless I stop and remind myself. (Interesting phrase, isn't it? "Remind myself;" bring "self" back to mind as a way of noticing what is actually here, as opposed to the knee-jerk habit of "me-ing," re-fabricating the character of Gail.)
There have been various types of resistance popping up since my last post. When noticing the trees and plants and animals and bugs and cars and people and movement of all happening by itself, there have been feelings of tremendous restlessness, impatience. mind chatter that seems almost unbearable. Wanting the chatter, the constant narrative and description of what is seen, felt, heard to STOP! Noticing the expectations of stillness, insight, knowing, peace. A story that "I'm not there yet. I'm not getting it. Blah blah blah." Physical tension like an over-caffeinated morning, though it can happen at any time of the day or night, even after chamomile tea!
Thoughts about not wanting it all to just be happening on its own. Wishing there could indisputable evidence of a conductor, an orchestrator, a puppet master making it all go. That thought pattern generates the most uncomfortable resistance of all. That's when there's the inner grasping, tension, holding - and of course, fear - that I so often identify as "me." Just realized that much of the fear is that life ("mine") will seem empty and meaningless if there is the realization that there's no doer/Doer. (Big sigh of letting go a little.)
Then there is the simple and beautiful and free-flying emptiness of being.
What a see-saw, Ilona; what a merry-go-round! It's a flipping theme park of up/down, in/out, grasping/letting go, searching for just the right word/letting it all just flow…
Whee! - down the slide to who-knows-where? Feeling so close to the gate, but still clinging to the bars I imagine still block my way.
Another sigh - and then a chuckle. There's an element of the thought of "Gail the Seeker" (as opposed to no-one there and nothing to find) that is very seductive, yet also torture and exhausting. The seeker, pilgrim, voyager wants to come home.
Thank you, Ilona, for your patience and generosity. Don't give up on me.
Gail
Curious to observe that when in another's presence and describing the in-the-moment experience of no-self, the knowing is clear and true. When just inside my own thoughts, it's the I/me/my business as usual…unless I stop and remind myself. (Interesting phrase, isn't it? "Remind myself;" bring "self" back to mind as a way of noticing what is actually here, as opposed to the knee-jerk habit of "me-ing," re-fabricating the character of Gail.)
There have been various types of resistance popping up since my last post. When noticing the trees and plants and animals and bugs and cars and people and movement of all happening by itself, there have been feelings of tremendous restlessness, impatience. mind chatter that seems almost unbearable. Wanting the chatter, the constant narrative and description of what is seen, felt, heard to STOP! Noticing the expectations of stillness, insight, knowing, peace. A story that "I'm not there yet. I'm not getting it. Blah blah blah." Physical tension like an over-caffeinated morning, though it can happen at any time of the day or night, even after chamomile tea!
Thoughts about not wanting it all to just be happening on its own. Wishing there could indisputable evidence of a conductor, an orchestrator, a puppet master making it all go. That thought pattern generates the most uncomfortable resistance of all. That's when there's the inner grasping, tension, holding - and of course, fear - that I so often identify as "me." Just realized that much of the fear is that life ("mine") will seem empty and meaningless if there is the realization that there's no doer/Doer. (Big sigh of letting go a little.)
Then there is the simple and beautiful and free-flying emptiness of being.
What a see-saw, Ilona; what a merry-go-round! It's a flipping theme park of up/down, in/out, grasping/letting go, searching for just the right word/letting it all just flow…
Whee! - down the slide to who-knows-where? Feeling so close to the gate, but still clinging to the bars I imagine still block my way.
Another sigh - and then a chuckle. There's an element of the thought of "Gail the Seeker" (as opposed to no-one there and nothing to find) that is very seductive, yet also torture and exhausting. The seeker, pilgrim, voyager wants to come home.
Thank you, Ilona, for your patience and generosity. Don't give up on me.
Gail