230628 - The Story

Absolute surrender. Nothing more, nothing less. This is the requirement, the demand. “Just let it be”. It’s all okay. The quest, the journey, the path. This is the constant symbol, the metaphor. The Hero’s Journey. It’s the story. It perpetuates itself. What we must realize is its fundamental otherness. The story is what? It’s a story. It’s something we tell ourselves, or others. It’s the work of a narrator. This is the Self. The story. “I” get caught by the story. I believe in it. I identify with it. I perpetuate it. But, we can just let it be. We don’t have to take it so seriously. I feel shame, embarassment, longing, fear, anger. Fine. That’s how it is. But I don’t have to get caught in its turbulance. I don’t have to get involved with the story that revolves around it. I can seperate the two. First, there’s the emotion. But we don’t let the emotion stand for itself. We must explain, understand, justify. That’s where we find the story. And it perpetuates the turbulance. Instead, we leave it. We allow the story, if it’s there, because of course there’s nothing else we can do. But we don’t really care about it. We instead sit with the emotion. We see their fundamental seperation. Thus we start to analyze, to un-identify with the story. Yes, I’m scared. If I look at the story my fear comes packaged with, it just escalates, keeps on spinning. Else I just sit with the feeling itself. That’s alright. It’s bearable. In other words, we connect with immediate experience. It’s so simple. There’s perception. Feelings, emotions, Thoughts, too. That’s alright. It is what is. But the unbearable-ness comes not in immediate experience, but from the story, the judgements, the worries, the hopes, the otherness. So, what do we do? We surrender. We give it all up. I think I must state it again. We give it all up. It’s not a light thing. The Self must be forfeited. We can’t allow ourselves to believe all of the stories anymore. Yes, there’s embarassment. That’s alright. But we don’t feed into it. We see it, we let it be. What is there to be ashamed of? Certainly not shame itself.

Today’s my mothers birthday. We talked on the phone. It’s been a while. My brother has lymphomia. I’m sad that I can’t see him. I miss his laughter. There’s longing. I think about everyone I know, back home and those I’ve met along the way. I miss the safety the past provides. Without it, the future is scary. Lonely. Luckily I don’t have to deal with that right now. I feel the walls melting. It’s terrifying. I was not ready, to find this, at a place like this. I’ve always viewed myself as a revolutionary, but right now I feel conservative. “Just a little, go slower, not as radical, please!” The story never matches the experience, I guess. That’s ironic. Did I mention that every morning I have to fight the urge to run away? The fear is not abstract.. it’s palpable. The latest story is my incompetence, how I shouldn’t even bother with the Teacher-Training Exams. “I’m not interested in teaching anyways.” Hah! Of course I am. What else is there to do? The bodhisattva path. What a lonely life, not trying to share happiness. Well, we’ll see what happens. But I think this fear itself justifies my following through. Running would just delay it. This is a very emotional place. I’m afraid of my emotions, of opening up. But I can’t contain it, I don’t think. I will burst. I feel very culnerable. It’s alright. All in due time. Just let it be. Absolute surrender.