by Greg Goode
I still ask questions, but every time I ask, the childlike wonder of long ago keeps growing in strength. I feel like I am coming home to the innocence and transparency of my existence. I feel more open to being spontaneous, knowing that there are no real missed routes or wrong turns. There are no reasons for the sweet valleys and precarious mountains of life; they are mysteries to be experienced, not solved. There is a sweetness that comes with meeting each moment as a fresh occurrence rather than as a by-product of an earlier moment.
Life continues to present more heart-opening opportunities through my recurring “whys,” especially in my interaction with others. I still get hurt when I fail to understand why people act the way they do. Then I remember that there is nothing to understand. Each interaction is a snapshot, a moment that is never going to touch another moment. I actually feel grateful for each exchange, regardless of whether it is hurtful or loving, because its uniqueness is a precious and ephemeral display of life. It’s okay for it to remain a question because it is not going to either harm or aggrandize any aspect of my life. It’s freeing to release my relationships and communications this way. And I am equally in awe of the many different emotions and thoughts that seem to follow these interchanges. They enrich my experience regardless of how they are labeled. Joy, sweetness, annoyance, impatience, excitement, fastidiousness—I now see them all as beautiful inner manifestations of the pluralistic culture I feel fortunate to belong to.
Another opportunity for openings occurs when I feel pressed to make snap decisions, when there is barely time to think before acting. I used to be displeased with some of these hurried decisions and would get stuck in the mental loop of wondering how I could avoid such careless reactions in the future. I felt compelled to understand all the elements that had contributed to my less-than-perfect responses. But having seen the unreality of causality, I need not be so harsh with myself. If there are obvious and clear lessons, then I learn them. If not, I don’t need to over-analyze the episode to try to pry a lesson out of it or feel pressured to create a methodology for avoiding similar mistakes.
I also no longer feel crushed when well-intentioned loved ones remind me of the unfulfilled potentials they see in me. These are merely labels, reinforced by “memory.” They do not come with objective reasons. I needn’t anguish over what could be causing me to neglect and suppress my “gifts.” The only unequivocal gift is the uncaused gift of life itself, treasured in the moment and for the moment. This attitude helps me be even more receptive to the unknown gifts that are alive and inspiring in each fresh moment.
I’m enjoying this new-found ease without having to drop anything that feels important to me. The deconstruction of causality and choice does not in any way translate to their destruction. If anything I now appreciate discernments even more - I can now enjoy cultivating more sensitivity and subtlety for my choices without the rigid structures that limit their full potential. I still explain and justify, when there is a practical need for it, with coherent reasoning and to the best of my ability. I acknowledge the benefits of embracing innovative ideas and noble causes. My heart continues to remember with much gratitude the kindness of many who lovingly reach out to make a difference in my life. I keep all promises that memory says I have made. I don’t tell my landlord that the 30 days’ worth of rent that is due is just a figment of his imagination. I stay open to better ways to respond to life’s appearances. But I don’t feel dogmatized by any of it. I am free to relinquish or adopt any mode of interpretation or explanation, in accordance with what feels uplifting and blends well with my own evolving ethics and moral codes.
I didn’t have to disown any of my familial, cultural and religious values and reasoning; likewise the more personalised insights gleaned from key experiences. I still see them as my preferred frames of reference, albeit as tools that do not hold any privileged position over my ongoing intuitions for navigating life. This relaxed outlook gifts me greater clarity for discovering intriguing depths and profound intricacies within those familiar standpoints. I now explore and contemplate them all with even more gratitude and admiration as I find that the wisdom I sought elsewhere was already unceasingly present in my life. Each person finds clarity in different ways and sometimes in multiple ways. For me, studying different teachings such as the direct path facilitate more experiential insights. I’m letting my spiritual journey evolve freely and creatively. My love for diversity is encouraging an eclectic mix of approaches that help me feel and enjoy more deeply the reality of the moment.
Going forward, I no longer feel the need for definite outcomes in order to carry on imbibing spiritual teachings. I am inspired to keep exploring simply for the fulfillment that comes from discovery, and the joyful contentment brought on by further insights. I feel the same way about all my endeavors; I don’t give undue importance to reasons and am learning to relish each activity for its own sake.
My realization of the illusory nature of causality is helping me to be more flexible, not just with my sense of reasoning, but with all experiences. I can infer that all concepts are open to similar scrutiny that will prove them unfindable. Often my receptiveness to these radical insights is tested, but it is exciting to find new ways to soften my heart and open my mind to more of life. I have found the lost playfulness and fluidity in my inquisitiveness. My infinite adventure with questions is continuing to surprise me as it did when I was a child. I feel like I am back home, even though I never did leave. And this time I know it consciously.
Joyful freedom
Is my story an exact and impartial depiction of my reality? Words can edify and entertain, but do they point to anything real other than my perception of them? My knowing of them is all I can be sure of. And the story they narrate is just a collection of current thoughts. But does that mean I should deprive myself of the gift of words? There is much to be appreciated in language despite its never touching anything beyond itself. The truth and beauty inherent in life is also infused in words.
This brings me to the joyful freedom innate in the direct path, which encourages a generous openness and flexibility towards all aspects of life. This magnanimity extends to freedom from any rigid use of language. Having seen how words are nothing objective beyond thoughts, and ultimately just the knowing of them, I no longer need to see language as a literal and accurate representation of life. I am free to use language metaphorically, and in a manner I deem to be most joyful. My preferred words can be the ones that are most effective, beneficial, compassionate, and humorous, or simply beautiful, elegant, and light-hearted.
As promised, I now come back to the question of the seeming paradox in my story of how the direct path caused me to see that cause is not operative. With joyful freedom, we are free to adopt a vocabulary that best fits our intentions. It is not about making the words correspond to reality—mere words can never make what they refer to a reality.
In my story there is a series of appearances, like this:
Priscilla trusts the concept of causality.
Priscilla inquires with the help of the direct path.
Priscilla does not believe in intrinsic causality.
However, this is not to say that 2 “caused” 3. A current thought has simply put together a timeline of events for this story. I have adopted a causal language even though I am describing how causality can’t be found. This joyful paradox is a freedom that comes from realizing that words do not correspond to what they refer to. Even what the name Priscilla claims to denote, when inquired into, is nowhere to be found. Everything, including a body called Priscilla, is experienced as nothing more than sensations, perceptions, or thoughts. These are never experienced apart from the knowing of them, so I am at liberty to communicate with what I feel to be the most suitable type of vocabulary. I feel free to put my points across without asserting that they strictly conform to any particular “truth” regarding the topic at hand. The direct path does not even expect adherence to its own
vocabulary outside enquiry; it liberates me even from itself.
So the question of what is causing my serenity and freedom need not arise for me. I can appreciate the direct path for its beauty without having to measure its benefits. This approach enables me to not give my power away to the teachers and teachings of this world, and yet to honor them for their graceful presence. My contemplations and writings are not held to correspond to a reality beyond what is currently experienced. But I can still appreciate the richness of the reflections that thought seemingly conjures every time I place my fingers on the keyboard. There is nothing other than this here and now. There can be no lack. There is simply an ever present knowing of intimate sweetness pointing back to only itself. I can never not be in the close comforts and familiarity of home—always where I belong.
Postscript
Much has transpired since early 2016 when I wrote this story about my dance with the direct path. I continue to marvel at how each new moment offers a gift of insights I couldn’t have imagined.
Deconstructing causality has made me even less reliant on external verification for the heartfelt convictions which I hold lightly yet passionately. I feel no urgency to explore the metaphysical secrets, scientific truths and psychological patterns that claim to reveal the cause of global cruelties and individual sufferings. Though I continue to make informed deductions, they are coupled with a heart that intuits the most benevolent decisions for myself and all. This paradoxical dance between the inner recesses of my psyche and seemingly external stimuli has led me to adopt a vegan lifestyle.
I continue to trust life’s mysterious ways, but at the same time I trust feelings evoked by uncertainties, disastrous prospects and the tears of others. Life, to me, is not about indulging a limited persona’s fearful projections and erecting a fortress to protect its narrow concerns; but nor is it about ignoring the harsh realities of every living being and the little opportunities to make a difference. I am guided by caution and pragmatism in discerning my choices but circumstantial compulsion to internalise societal conditionings, fear based values and limited perspectives have dissipated. Such impulses to conform and worry do arise but I continue to engage them with a clarity born of deeper insights.
Thus I can welcome the unexpected treasures that come even with so-called anxiety and grief. I celebrate both light and intense feelings with a heart that grows more like the heart of the innocent and inspired child of my herstory. Only this time, the childlike heart is playing with increasingly mature reasonings, interactions, challenges and accountabilities. The dance between mind and spirit appears to have “resumed” but I know the soulful harmony between the two never really ceased.
The spirit of nondual insights gives equal power to my personal intelligence as it does the groundlessness that is the reality of everything. To the extent this is clear to me, the lines between creative choices and sweet surrenders are blurred. There is no contradiction between a river serenely flowing to the pull of the ocean and its clever navigation of the rocks, even as it nourishes the living organisms that flourish in it. It all happens both naturally and intelligently; the blessings of life are diverse and as meaningful as I desire them to be—nothing is excluded.
Now that I have realised that nothing leads to predetermined outcomes, I find a new depth and sharpness to my discernments and ideals. My trust in life is complete and this includes the trust in my own psyche, with a goodwill that is not apart from life and a heart that is happily at ease. To jump with a carefree heart and probe courageously as a spark of truth—knowing that the leaps and dives will be supported by that very same truth; it’s the ultimate dance that’s allowing me to see the infinite greatness ingrained in life and its diverse expressions.
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Release the Releaser
by James N. Hurley
“ Turning 72 carries with it all the wear and tear that happens to any machine over time, meaning things start to break down—only now it’s so much closer to home. It’s my body, not the car or the toaster. I’m smiling inside as I write this, because I suspect some of you who are reading this, if you’re from the nonduality camp, might be saying to yourself, “He’s still identifying with the body. He’s not there yet!” But I have to report that at this stage I can see everything as “me”! And it’s not like that’s stopped the world from doing what it’s doing.”
How it began
This is the story of my pursuit of happiness. I wanted to know what was responsible for the unhappiness and suffering in my life, and how to get rid of it.
Although I’d tried many different approaches, my quest didn’t get started in a meaningful way until I learned the Sedona Method,26 mainly because of the depth of change I experienced by using it.
But when you really get into something, you inevitably discover its shortcomings. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and in this case, what was missing in the Sedona Method led me to discover what was next, and that turned out to be meeting Francis Lucille and discovering the direct path.
A significant part of my story began when I got into an accident while playing with my best friend and lost my left eye. It was at the onset of puberty, so you can imagine the insecurity and lack of self-confidence my new glass eye caused.
I was not interested in addressing this insecurity through the traditional Western avenues of psychoanalysis and psychiatry. I mean, I already knew the cause of my insecurity. Instead I pursued alternate approaches, a lot of which were Eastern in origin, that seemed more holistic to me and that included experiential aspects as well as analytical.
The sedona method
After several years of working with practitioners of Fritz Perls’ Gestalt Therapy, combined with yoga and meditation, and seeking various spiritual teachers as they presented themselves in my search, I was fortunate to meet Lester Levenson.
I experienced something different, something special, in that encounter that really got my attention. As we talked, something about the truth and freedom he spoke of struck me. It was more than just an intellectual conversation. I somehow experienced what he was describing. Being there with him, I could feel a strange calmness. He said he’d discovered something that caused his own suffering to disappear completely. But more importantly, he’d found a peace that was so profound that it was totally satisfying, and it had never left him.
Lester said he could show me what he’d found. His approach was holistic, encompassing body, mind, and spirit, and I wanted that. So I joined him, believing I had found what I’d been looking for all my life: a way to let go of what was blocking me, a way to go free. It was called (and still is) the Sedona Method.
How it worked
I became so good at applying the Method, and it had such an impact on my emotional life, that I became one of his first teachers, traveling the country sharing what I’d learned. The brilliance of the Method was that it showed you how to release emotions on a deep level. What Lester discovered was that our struggles with life’s situations that cause us to feel sad, angry, frustrated, anxious, or fearful are due to underlying operating programs—core motivators that are responsible for the creation of our fear, sadness, and anger. These motivators are the basic need for love or approval, the need to control or change things, and the desire for safety and survival. And our emotions are one of the ways we go about trying to satisfy these basic directives.
Here’s an example of how it works. A feeling of, let’s say, sadness comes up in me. I would trace it back to see what its sponsoring directive was. Was I using the sadness to get love or approval? Was I wanting to control or change something? Was I wanting to feel safe? Once I determined which want was operative, I was presented with a choice, which up until this point I hadn’t felt like I had: to continue wanting it or to stop and let it go. Once the source of the feelings was addressed, the feelings would dissipate on their own, as they were no longer needed.
Step one: losing the
eye patch
Here’s how I applied the Sedona Method to the insecurities caused by my missing eye. When I first met Lester, I was wearing an eye patch. My glass eye tended to cause irritation, so now and then I would remove it and wear a patch. But this time I kept the eye patch on. I told myself that it was because having the prosthetic was too much trouble, but in reality I was still uncomfortable with how it looked. This, mind you, was mainly in my head. Most people just thought I had a lazy eye, no big deal to them.
But on another level the eye patch was a social aid, an attraction of sorts. Women loved it, like I had an Errol Flynn mystique, so it actually worked as a chick magnet. As for the guys, they were kind of intimidated, afraid of the pirate. Ha ha!
Then one day Lester came up to me and said, “Jim, lose the patch. It’s hindering your growth.” So I took it off, and he was right. All the old feelings—or should I say the remaining feelings—of insecurity showed up on my doorstep.
Step two: losing the insecurities and self-consciousness
The re-occurrence of these feelings was not a problem, because I had the Method, and I was able to let them go, which I did. The Method is unmatched in that area.
It was as easy as meeting someone and making eye contact. Even basic communication between two people involves looking back and forth, from left eye to right eye, stopping arbitrarily on one or the other. When someone’s glance quite naturally landed on my artificial eye, it felt as if they weren’t communicating with me. I was over here, so to speak, looking back from the seeing eye. When this happened, I would even say to myself, inside, “Over here, over here! I’m over here!” It’s laughable now. But then, I experienced the fear of being rejected big-time.