The Way of It

Why would I want it to stop

and miss the lessons it brings?

Coming back to life

having never died

it is the strangest thing.

It is all of course a lie

yet a complete delight

Even when it does not appear to be so.

It really is the strangest thing.

To realize that I’ve been mourning the loss of what I never had.

What freedom!

There is no shortcut to honesty

Honesty is the shortcut.

The highest level is to be level with everyone.

To not leave anyone behind.

The trust that has been placed on me by my teachers

I shall not defraud

From doing The Work on my most shameful and embarrassing thoughts I have been able to see how innocent the whole enterprise of believing my thoughts has been, how there has been no substantive reality to thoughts such as “I’m a terrible person,” “he wronged me” or “I’m ugly.” Making friends with the thoughts that would tear me down has been an incredible journey and as a result I am so much happier and relaxed.

Now, it only dawned on me recently that there was an entire class of thoughts that I was still not comfortable with and that I still secretly wished would go away: the thoughts that would tell me that “I’m better/smarter/more compassionate/more enlightened than others.” Having these thoughts, I felt, was not only wrong but actually proof that I had not learned anything in all these years of dutifully practicing self inquiry of this or that type. My resistance to those thoughts was such that I did not even want to look at them, let alone question them. To push them away, that’s what I’d do with them.

One day, however, I began to notice this very fact and that felt really humbling. I can see them now and humor them, accept that they are there, when they are there. “What have they got to do with me/with what’s real?,” I tell me. It’s such a good feeling, to befriend what is, and what is sometimes looks like thoughts I would label as those only an arrogant person would have.

And is that true?

…

My answer to this question brings me closer to the realization that it is OK to have the thoughts that I have. It really is OK. It’s only a problem if and when I believe them, and I have The Work for that.

It’s a good thing, the workings of it all.

Sometimes I tell my story to stay identified.

Sometimes I tell my story to free myself from it.

Can I tell the difference?

Turning the truth into a concept is like drawing an orange on a piece of paper, eating it, and expecting to be nourished by it.