Eventually, in the present, at the retreat, I got up from my narrow bed, so reminiscent of school. I was completely oblivious to that connection, and to the fact that events of 45 years ago were playing so close to the surface. I blew my nose, grabbed my notebook and sat on my favorite bench under a leafy tree, facing the rising sun. I gazed up into that tree and admired a spider's web, intricate and shiny in the light. Once upon a time, I would have blotted out the tears, chosen the positive route and said well then, if nothing lasts, enjoy life to the full! But this required a deeper response. The key is surrender. That was the word that dropped into my mind and caused me finally to relax into the grief. (It was grief). If this is the way life is, what to do about it? Can't fight it, can't wish it were otherwise. If I surrender, then I accept life as it is. As Lao Tze writes, "Do enough without vying." No pushing. No struggling. No forcing things to be other than what they are. "Just this. Just this."
No sooner was there this acceptance than a bushel of busy thought full of anxiety and fear appeared. The next bit of course was then, how does one get through this life?? How to live with this knowledge that nothing lasts? Bad enough my own tiny part in it: when I imagined my little tile idea multiplied out to everybody in the world, everybody with their own perceptions, never mind their wildly divergent thoughts, I was in despair. Every step of the way is laced with misunderstanding! How can we ever communicate with each other? Our experiences are not - will never be - the same, and on top of it, they are changing inexorably every moment, as we are changing. The Eightfold Path, the Buddha's prescription for this terrible suffering, is all very well, but the beginning of it, Right Understanding, is already fraught with peril: who can claim to understand another? And then it's followed by Right Intention, but if it translates, as it so often does, into unskilful action or speech, then we can go our whole lives explaining ourselves, becoming more and more self-conscious until finally we are paralyzed, or in seclusion, away from people, away from the world. There at least we will do no harm. And obviously that's no good either.
Well, here I was drowning in a torrent of thought, all of it unskilful. Then I remembered what Victor had talked about on Saturday night: the wedge, the recognition that "a thought is just a thought!" Stop it! I told myself. Let thoughts come - and go. They will not last! I knew that from working with the breath, moment by moment. I thought then that this was the ego who was shattered and madly trying to regroup, barking imperatives to DO something.
Back when I was a kindergarten teacher, I would tell my children that in all the history of the world, there had never been another one just like them, another Juan or Maria or Dylan, and that it was their job to be the very best they could be, to show us what a Juan or a Maria or a Dylan looked like. I had thought then that we had to mould and fashion our little clay container to make it as good as we possibly could. Now I see that the idea that 'there has never been another Alison' is true in a sense - Alison as container for the deeper truth within who is not Alison. But the point I believe is not to make Alison the 'best' she can be: the smartest, kindest, brightest, funniest, etc. The point is to crack the casing (the ego) and let the radiance stream out. And in that case 'Alison' will inevitably be the best she can be - how could she not? Only it is not consciously 'done' by 'Alison'. On the contrary, it is a letting go of Alison. It is - surrender.
Sitting on my little bench, having these thoughts, I thought no wonder Victor tells us that Buddhism is not for children. This level of awareness is beyond the grasp of a child. No wonder I need to grow up. I wondered if I could even do it. Just then a peacock flew down (flew! I didn't know they could fly) and landed on the lawn in front of me. Victor had said that Jung believed that dreaming about exotic animals (like a peacock) was a sign of spiritual awakening. I thought how much more of a sign might be the actual bird in the flesh falling out of the sky? So I felt encouraged: not beyond reach, said the spiritual bird, you wouldn't have had the insight otherwise. Then it marched behind a hedge. I felt better.
"But the point... is not to make Alison the 'best' she can be.... The point is to crack the casing..let the radiance stream out... And in that case 'Alison' will inevitably be the best she can be - how could she not? .....it is a letting go of Alison. It is - surrender."
ReplyDeleteWhat a thought!