Stray Thoughts on Enlightenment
It’s special, and nothing special.
I’ve spent decades on a quest for enlightenment, and sometimes I fall awake there.
When it happens, it’s a big deal and no big deal.
I know this sounds a like a contradiction, but I’m hoping it’s a paradox. This gets me off the hook for further explanation.
The Gates of Wisdom are guarded by two lions. One lion is fear. The other is paradox.
With enlightenment, there are lions all over the place.
Enlightenment won't solve my problems, cure my chronic conditions, answer all my questions, or deliver permanent bliss.
Enlightenment won't help me get laid more, get paid more, or lose weight.
Tony de Mello’s description is right on track:
Before enlightenment, I used to be depressed: after enlightenment, I continue to be depressed. But there’s a difference: I don’t identify with it any more.
Whatever arises in body and mind, don't identify with it. Let it pass. It’s not “me.”
Shorter version: Shit happens (the Buddha’s First Noble Truth). Don't take it personally (all the other Noble Truths).
I don't arrive at non-identification by reasoning. Logic-chopping doesn't get me there.
Non-identification is a direct experience. I get there by watching thoughts and sensations rise and pass away. Finally I get a blinding flash of the obvious (BFOTO): All that stuff is impermanent.
I don't try to stop identification. I see it, and it falls away like a huge ice chunk breaking off a glacier. This is unwilled — the wisdom of Nature acting spontaneously from the Whole.
When this happens, I feel a cosmic sense of relief. A whole lifetime of regrets, resentments, and requirements — all that dead weight falls away.
So does “past” and “future.” I step from the linear flow of time into the present moment, which is outside the line.
This really lightens the load.
Enlightenment is lightening up.
I’ve given up all hope of finding a universal model of enlightenment. It doesn’t exist. Enlightenment means different things to different people.
I can only say how enlightenment feels to me, which is seeing experience as pure process.
Life is just one experience after another — none more important than any other, none more final than any other. Experience is pure free-fall with no place to land, no end point, no arrival.
Thoughts of “me” are just experiences that come and go as well. Stuff just happens and there’s nobody home.
Every grand insight, every milestone, every memory flows into the river of time.
Then time disappears.
I don't talk about “no-self.” I don't tell people that they don't exist. This doesn’t go over well at parties.
A Zen master would say: If you deny the self, I will give you thirty blows. If you affirm the self, I will send you straight to hell with all demons.
Don't fall into the trap of dualistic thinking. Better to say that "self” is something that expands and contracts.
Years ago, while sitting at a meditation retreat, I felt the borders of my body disappear, no separation between “me” and “not me.” The sudden expansion was quite pleasant.
But there are times when borders matter — like if I’m about to be physically or emotionally abused. Then it’s time to contract: I have boundaries. I am here. You stay over there.
Enlightenment is also about freedom from circumstances.
Years ago I went to a meditation retreat during the dead of July. We were in a building with no air conditioning, sitting in a stuffy room with a few tiny fans. The windows were stuck closed. My clothing was drenched with sweat.
“Just sit with it,” said Shinzen Young, the teacher. So I did.
Eventually came the point of peak discomfort. I had two options: Stay on the cushion and pass out, or leave for a cold shower.
I decided to stay for just one more breath.
Suddenly that huge mass of comfort dissolved into a million shimmering sensations. They passed through me without a trace. The body-mind was transparent and fluid.
I was free.
Another aspect of enlightenment is a new sense of agency. Action happens through me, not by me. I don't have to figure everything out and try so hard.
In Taoism it’s called wu wei, effortless action.
Self-help books help you move from victim to doer, the first level of transformation. This is useful.
What happens when the doer disappears? Things get really interesting.
Some people say that the way to get started with meditation is the traditional 10-day retreat.
Don't do this. It’s like learning to swim by diving into the deep end of the pool. There’s a risk of drowning.
If you sit in silence for 12 hours per day for 10 days, you will definitely experience some altered states of consciousness. They can be really pleasant — or really nasty. There’s a risk of freaking out.
Just start by creating a Tiny Habit to take one conscious breath. Then two conscious breaths, then three, and so on.
Eventually you might get to a full hour of conscious breathing and go on a half-day retreat.
Take it easy.
There’s no hurry.