39 ~Vipassana Part 8: The spiritual path and the encounter with "oneself".

Days passed, and with them we gained more awareness, and our practice improved. Along with that came increased demands and discipline, but that was fine, by this point, we loved the teacher.

We had begun meditating in the cells, very small rooms located in the basement of a huge dome-shaped building. It was a long, circular hallway, all painted white, with many of those small cubicles lining both sides of the corridor. It consisted of private meditation, away from the group, without the noise and massive Indian burps that echoed throughout the hall. Now, self-discipline was being tested—as if it hadn’t been before.

—Now, meditation in "cells”... (?)

It took me a day to realize that the cells were those rooms in the building we never entered. And it’s not that I figured it out on my own, but the volunteer directed me there after seeing me walk toward my room, clearly not understanding the instruction.

Sometimes, meditation in that bubble was beautiful; sometimes, it was just a forced moment to surrender and fall asleep wrapped in your own blanket.

By then, we already understood the time the mind requires and the craving cycle we were trying to break free from. That circuit of endless, fierce, and subtle desires that paradoxically appear to us every day as imperceptible. We also began to understand the patience we needed: patience for the path and for ourselves along the path, because whatever happened, we were doing the best we could, and that was our personal achievement.

"To meet myself," I would repeat to my therapist again and again. Neither of us really knew what that meant...

The encounter with oneself is not the encounter with the Ego—or maybe it is, but only in order to dismantle it. So, what remains when the Ego is no longer in charge?

Who are we when we manage to set the mask aside, even for a moment?

As we had reflected before, if we stand on the Ego's side, we are rooted in the logic of separation, of feeling there’s something missing, and that we must fill that void with something.

With what? For each person, it will be something different, and there are likely as many ways as there are people on the face of the Earth. But the underlying issues are similar, because they respond to the same logic.

Which logic?

The logic of somehow trying to cover up that great emptiness we feel, which almost instantly becomes frustration. The problem with the path of the Ego is that, as we’ve seen, in that journey through the unfillable hole, there is no possible peace. It’s an endless road. And if the notion of lack is something structural for everyone, then there’s no solution to be found down that road.

So, if we are looking for peace—or to discover who we are beneath the mask—we must go beyond that loop.

How?

By transcending it.

Beginning to perceive that wholeness exists—and that this wholeness INCLUDES the hole, the lack.

And there we have two new things: a hole, yes, but also a totality.

Emptiness, but at the same time completeness. Hard to grasp, yes, but wonderful.

Going beyond infinite craving, beyond the wheel of insatiable desires, beyond the endless staircase, allows us to find another possible place, one where we are whole. A place where lack occupies a space, like a positive element that enables movement, not as something missing. 

Reality is perfect and complete just as it is, and fundamentally, it's the only one there is. So we must begin to understand it as it truly is, in order to start glimpsing what we can do with it.

That is the real encounter with what’s real, with what is not Ego. Reality as it is, without identifications to hold us up, without attachment and aversion. Without the phantom-like constructions we’ve built in order to face life. Without the roles and adaptive scaffolding we had to create just to survive. The purest state. The encounter with what we lost and with what we forgot we once were. That other path.

A return. A reunion. An integration of what we always were before illusion corrupted us.

"We walk both paths at once; we have one foot in each. One is the path of the Ego. The other, the path of liberation, of supreme truth. We cannot fully eradicate the Ego in this life unless we attain liberation, but what is possible is to become deeply aware of it and how it operates. To notice which of the two paths we are walking in each moment, and what goals we are trying to reach through each. For that, we must stay very, very alert. To exercise and practice awareness, because the Ego slips in through even the tiniest cracks in our everyday actions. We begin with a purpose and quickly get sidetracked, seeking applause, achievement, recognition. So, it becomes crucial to STOP. To ask ourselves as many times as necessary, though it’s probably not about how many times, but rather about choosing a way to walk," Kaare said between phrases, in some of the many sessions we shared.

With one foot, we move through this world. We need a shared language and certain identifications that make it easier to navigate reality and communicate with others. (Do we really need them as much as we think? What price are we paying for them? ) With the other foot—in the best-case scenario, hopefully—we have already become disillusioned. We’ve already realized that the happiness we seek doesn’t truly live in that cyclical world of achievements, results, and rewards.That we must go in another direction, or perhaps more deeply: beyond it. That we must examine our beliefs. Open another door. Pierce through the mask.

Both paths intertwine and coexist, like the different parts within ourselves. I like to think of the notion of integration. Also, of balance.

In the end, I believe it almost always comes down to strengthening our capacity for awareness—of reality, and of ourselves. And of course, not forgetting to do so with as much kindness as we can, daily, on this path of eternal learning.

—Go inward, understood... How?”— asked a voice inside me, notebook and pen in hand, as if the answer to “go inward” were somehow simple. Of course, it’s not, it’s only step two.

Because clearly, it’s also not about “going inward” while repeating the same pattern, pretending that spiritual matters can fill the vacant space left by the “material” matters on the path of the Ego. It’s not a trade-off, it’s a shift in logical understanding, direction, and method. And of course, we also have to go through that and experience it ourselves, like everything.

In India, spiritual knowledge is so vast, so beautiful, and so tempting that, without realizing it, we easily start repeating the same pattern, but now in the spiritual realm. We want to attend every class, join every experience, learn every theory, practice every meditation, find the best Gurus, etc., etc., etc.

Believe me, in India, realizing the existence of spiritual consumerism is at least steps three, four, and five.

It’s all part of the experience—trial and error—that’s how learning is built. But going one step further, we also have to understand how to step out of that consuming mode, of chasing achievements, of collecting things.

How?

By breaking the pattern: By stopping. Something we were rarely taught, something that goes against this productive system, and something we almost never practice. And then, from the stillness of the pause, we can allow new questions to arise: Where am I running to? What is it I’m trying to reach? Where does this need come from? What am I really chasing with all of this?

Because if we come to understand that there’s nothing left to fill, and therefore nothing to chase, because in truth, nothing is missing…Then there is no place we urgently need to get to. And that is profoundly liberating. It could very well be translated into peace.

“When you know that you are free, free from ‘I’, free from ‘mine’. When in your heart you know there’s nowhere else to go, you are very still, as if you had come to an end.” Ashtavakra Gita

Now, don’t get me wrong, this is not about sitting around waiting for death in a fatalistic way, feeling like everything’s already done. Rather, it’s a state of joy and contentment from which we can act differently. From wholeness, not from lack. From peace, not from chasing.

Now, we can stop running.

In each nightly talk, we took with us new discoveries, like pearls, one by one, forming a new, personal necklace. Yes, it was still possible to go a little further.

At first, we had understood that we confuse the nature of reality by treating it as something permanent—when in fact, it’s not. Then we caught a glimpse of another truth: that we’ve also been mistaken about the path to happiness. That the peace we long for doesn’t lie in the pursuit of achievements—whether material or spiritual—because that logic leads us into a never-ending cycle of striving and suffering. Now, the new pearl on the necklace was this: there is actually nothing to fill. Everything we were searching for is already within us. We’ve always been whole.

So the path is rather about reconciling ourselves with that truth—and with our nature: perfect, complete, and sufficient. Just as it is. Here and now. That is the only place where we can be happy. Not in the past. Not in the future. Only here and now.

There’s nothing to heal—because we are not sick. We simply need to polish the crystal we are, clean it, and bring back its shine, so we can begin to see through it again. When the dust clears, reality takes on a different hue. It might even begin to shine on its own, and, surprisingly, we may begin to feel content with that. The challenge was not just about changing objects, but about changing the lens.

If we are already complete, we can let go of the rush and the crushing anxiety that eats away at our minds. We can move at a different pace, think from a different place. And if I dwell so much on this, it’s because in theory it sounds amazing, but in practice, letting go and stopping is something almost entirely absent from our system.

Stopping, in itself, may already be a challenge.

The spiritual path.

That we live in a world that is inherently mutable and ever-changing, applies to everything. And so, it also applies to our spiritual paths and quests.

The fact that the term spiritual path may sound kinder or more altruistic doesn’t make it a more complete, static, or linear entity. The same goes for meditation, Yoga, and all other practices. Everything goes through changes, ups and downs, cycles and necessary movement, and when we truly understand this, everything softens.

These practices are not ends in themselves. They are not achievements to be reached, but tools to help us connect to the harmony we’re searching for. To ourselves, to knowledge, to frequencies, or that something beyond us.

Our own truth? The divine? Maybe a little of both?

These practices help us clear away the noise. Later, we must begin building our own way of seeing.

They are anchors that bring us back to the path, and over time, they become ways of living.

The spiritual path—like any path, and like life itself—is not linear. And it doesn’t work by accumulating knowledge. Even less by filling holes.

It looks more like this: You walk a little, get sidetracked, fall, trust again, come back, understand, connect, discover, get confused again, realize how wrong you were, feel frustrated, get angry about that, then get angry for being angry—and after some time, find yourself lost again...You’ll probably surrender, take some distance, let go, create space again, find new truths, see the old through a new light, readjust, and keep trying—with your eyes a little more open, with a different understanding, developing resilience.

The true learning—maybe the most important—will be to begin to understand this mutability, which is the very essence of any path, and more than that: It is what will always accompany us, for life, throughout our entire life.

—Then, the ups and downs are part of the path," said a high-pitched voice, almost childlike, in the midst of a sudden insight. "They're not mistakes to correct or obstacles to smooth out, but rather the very essence of a long road that leads us to the summit..." the same voice continued, gazing at the horizon and nodding.

—That's how learning unfolds," replied another voice, deeper and serene. "So we should normalize detours, returns, moments to pause, to remain expectant, moments to listen and reconsider movement. Embrace the path as it comes and find peace in its unevenness," countered the smaller voice.

—When these unevennesses are recognized, they cease to be defects or imperfections and instead become integral to the path, naturally," said the older voice, possibly originating deep within the earth or from some tree. "That's impermanence, that's equanimity, and also acceptance. These aren't theoretical concepts; they are life itself.

—So, should we walk with more contentment, then? Walk solely for the pleasure derived from each step taken consciously, stepping firmly, even in the middle of a puddle, even on solid ground, even where visibility is poor because of too much darkness... Content not just with the results themselves, but with the texture that the path leaves on the soles of our shoes. For every second of life that enters our lungs, in every minute of our sublime existence.

Take a deep breath, hold it, and exhale as if you have something amazing in front of you. You do: it's life.

—Living with detachment," said the reflective voice, "don't you feel more free?"

At last, the childlike voice breathed.

"You have the right to perform your prescribed duties, but you are not entitled to the fruits of your actions. Never consider yourself to be the cause of the results of your activities, nor be attached to inaction."

Bhagavad Gita

We still carry remnants of the old paradigm. Stability, security, sustenance. All the things that were planted in our minds as achievements we must attain at some point. And not just any point, but at that supposed moment when we are meant to become serious and responsible adults. And all that chain of words remained forever linked in our mental RAM memory. Just like that, undisputedp, sharp, deep, demanding: Stability, security, sustenance. Serious and responsible adults.

And those associations stayed bundled up like that in our minds forever, dragging along, haunting us, pushing us toward success, or into the void if we failed to reach it. Like a machine: insensitive and lethal. But Ram in India is also a word used to refer to God. So perhaps, in that space, things can still be transmuted.

—That was what ruined our exploratory path, our peace of mind, all our harmony. That was the sentence we had to serve for “normality”, said the elder voice, shaking her head from side to side, as if that could undo the spell.

—How could they believe it? Life isn’t linear… it’s impossible. How could they let themselves be convinced and embark on an eternal struggle against the nature of reality? —When things drag on for too long, habits normalize everything so thoroughly that no one questions them anymore. Magically, they start to appear natural, like the only possible reality, and they create their own little world—more like their WORLD in capital letters—and as you can see, it’s terribly dangerous... A great illusion can be disguised as the most unquestionable truth for thousands of inhabitants of that world, and that’s not just terrible, it’s utterly devastating.

Life is not linear, nor uniform, nor stable.

Long paths are rarely linear, uniform, or stable.

The spiritual journey is no exception. Nothing is.

Believing that life, the path, spirituality, peace, dharma, the connection or harmony we seek is a stable road or that we must conquer some kind of ideal state is not natural, it’s just the mandate of some limited little world. That can be a major frustration and certainly a huge disappointment, and even more, one that is necessary to go through and deconstruct, because nothing could be further from the truth.

—We must craft a perspective that aligns more closely with reality! said the small voice, indignant but filled with idealistic spirit.

—Yes, of course we must.

We hold the illusion—or expectation—that meditation is a state to be reached and forever maintained in a sublime, pristine, immaculate way, without difficulty. We believe that doing Yoga is just about stepping onto the mat. That it’s always inspiring, always disciplined, or that it should always be pleasant. That it will give us exactly the energy and the vibrations we need under any circumstance. That we can always connect with the rituals, with the energy, with the gods, with everything. That every time we begin our practice, our mind will always be calm, peaceful, and positive…

"Always." What a complex word.

Nooooo!!! Once again: no!!! Liiifeee!!! Mutable, changing, irregular.

Let’s let go of all that already!!!!

Let’s set ourselves free!!!!

Even if it’s still hard to digest: Nothing             escapes

                      the  

                                 Universal              Law

                                                         of                                                      Impermanence.

Everything is changing, sensitive, and in motion. And once again, the only truly constant thing is change.