by Greg Goode
Frustration
Even if this spiritual path de-emphasizes goal-directed behavior, it is difficult to not let a sense of pursuit of a goal sneak in. I do want my experience to be other than it is; I want my feelings of separation to be gone. I fuel this frustration by reading about figures I view as having achieved enlightenment, and then
adding imaginative leaps to those stories. I create entire scenarios starring The Enlightened and then escape into them when I have problems at work or upon looking for the third time at a credit-card bill. In my mental theater, when you open the package of goodies awaiting you on the other side of the direct-path finish-line, “frustration” is noticeably absent!
Most people experience the feeling of not having the life they want materially or emotionally; I add “spiritually” to that roster of frustration. But looking closely at this frustration uncovers the hidden assumption that the direct-path teachings take you somewhere that you currently aren’t. “Path” is a familiar and useful metaphor, but the teachings serve more to render translucent the concepts that are obstructing your existing view than to move you to a better vantage-point.
The application of direct-path teachings to the feeling itself is fruitful. This feeling of frustration points to lack. I don’t have something I want, or I’m not something I want to be. This kind of existential lack is different from the lack of something material, such as money. Material needs can be dealt with on the material level. But this deeper sense of lack cuts more to the bone. So, let us investigate: can this deeper, existential lack be found?
One basic pattern in direct-path inquiry is to try to find something, anything, that is separate from awareness. In trying to do this, my failure rate so far is 100%. When this sinks in, it leads to an appreciation or apprehending of awareness as always complete and whole, and the conviction that there is nothing off-stage waiting in the wings to enter and add something to the show. Any place a lack could be found vanishes.
Fear
Fear as well stems from unexamined assumptions about what the direct path views as “being finished.” I was once at a nondual retreat, and during a question session a participant about 15 years my senior posed a poignant question to the teacher. Very directly and with clear emotion he described his efforts on this path. He then referred to his age and asked, in about so many words, if he would be enlightened before he died.
I was so caught up in his sincerity that I don’t remember what the teacher said. (Maybe if I listened better at these things I wouldn’t need to be writing this essay!) I’m now closer to that questioner’s time of life, and I have some similar concerns. Will I die before I “finish”? Will I have squandered a human life? These questions view being finished as an accomplishment and also as a possession. The direct path doesn’t treat it as either, as it requires a separate self both to do something and to own something. This can’t be found.
The direct-path teachings can be applied specifically to this feeling also. Fear points to the future: something that I don’t want will happen or something that I want will not happen. The investigation of the past and memory can be duplicated here with the future and anticipation. But the future is never experienced directly. Thoughts and images of it are experienced as just that—thoughts and images. They never point to an actual future, but arise only in present awareness.
I resonate with the deep-sleep teachings of the direct path, although I know not everyone does. These involve inquiry into the continuity of awareness when the body and mind are in the dreamless deep sleep state. One major component is pondering the implications of awareness not being continuously present during this time. One attraction for me is that they show that awareness is not dependent on specific, or any, arisings. They point to the continuity of awareness when we would normally think of it as absent. As my identity seeps into the awareness side of things, specific feared arisings lose their power to inflict harm or even destruction, and my morbid fascination with them decreases as well.
Inadequacy
I’ve had a lifelong distrust in my ability to “do” philosophy. Encountering philosophical arguments in texts or in person has left me unsure of my own ability to follow arguments or to counter arguments that I intuitively don’t trust. I majored in religion in college and stayed far away from philosophy classes. I have an inherent distrust of being manipulated by philosophical questioning. I don’t feel smart enough or skilled enough to detect flaws in reasoning or assumptions. My deep attraction to direct-path work is a little contrary to this aversion, as it can have the flavor of philosophical inquiry, but I’m not put off by that. This might be due to the nature of the teachers I’ve encountered and the fact that various modes can be used in direct-path work (see especially Greg Goode’s After Awareness58).
Still, when surveying my progress on the path, I sometimes find myself feeling that I’m not smart enough to follow all of the steps that lead to the apprehension of all as awareness. Being finished would disperse these clouds of inferiority. I’d have the sort of certificate that the Wizard of Oz gave the Scarecrow to attest to my abilities. But this feeling of inadequacy is rooted in the assumption that the direct path is the only path or is somehow superior to all others, and that to “finish” requires the ability to adhere to it. These assumptions are not part of the direct-path teachings.
Using direct-path inquiry to examine the feeling of inadequacy, we can see that it, like frustration, is engendered by a sense of lack, but in this case the lack is in terms of objective standards that aren’t being met. It derives its power from a belief in a sort of golden yardstick against which I can be measured. I can find all sorts of ordinary yardsticks to measure this body and mind against within awareness, but they are all conditioned and dependent. When it comes to applying a standard to my existence, especially when I take my stand as awareness, no such measure can be found. I have reaped emotional benefits from this realization, as measures against which I have fallen short my entire life have been seen through and dissolved.
Doubt
My participation in various paths has not been as extensive as that of many fellow seekers. I’ve read widely but have not followed or practiced many different teachings. Combining this realization with my feeling of not being finished leads to doubts about my current choice. I know that I have previously felt strongly that there were better and worse paths, in near absolute terms.
But direct-path teachings have sunk in enough that I no longer frame the issue that way. I do, however, harbor doubts about the combination of this path and me. Is my makeup better suited to a different approach? I don’t so much doubt the efficacy of the path as I do its efficacy for me. If this is true, that I’m not suited to the direct path, then I’m walking on a treadmill while people around me are walking on firm ground and actually getting somewhere.
Another factor in this feeling of doubt could be that much of the success I’ve had in life has come in the academic world, which has often led me to feel that I’ve sufficiently understood something on the first or second reading. But such premature grokking doesn’t work (at least for me) in direct-path writings, specifically with Greg Goode’s exercises in The Direct Path: A User Guide. (These are not quite like Douglas Harding’s experiments. Harding has said that you “get” the experiment right away, but it might take a while to work out the implications.) It takes time and pondering for the impact of direct-path exercises to sink in. My usual conviction that, if I can describe a line of reasoning, it means that I have understood it doesn’t work in this realm. The direct path challenges basic beliefs that I’ve held for decades about the very world I live in, and patience is required. Perhaps my lack of background in meditation or other spiritual disciplines is hampering me. Assumptions about finishing on the direct path fuel this feeling of doubt as well. These assumptions connect enlightenment or liberation to a specific set of teachings, rather than to a match between student and teachings.
We can inquire
directly into the feeling of doubt, just as with the other three feelings. The points regarding the feeling of inadequacy are helpful here too. Doubt comes from comparing paths, and also implies a standard. It suggests that there is a right path or method and that I might not have found it. Direct-path teachings can refute this notion also. The impulse to rate paths as better or worse, or closer to or farther from the truth, is strong. It comes to the fore when we have chosen a path, and feel the need to defend it against all other choices. We want to be on the best path and will cite lineages and longevity to bolster the claim. Or we might see a value in the lack of lineages and longevity and hold those against other paths. Just as with the feeling of inadequacy, making this judgment means being able to stand somewhere that is apart from the path and apart from reality and comparing the two. If such a place existed it would be so crowded you wouldn’t be able to see anything from there anyway.
My own spiritual path has not been characterized by an excess of commitment. The direct path is the one I’ve spent most time on. That could be because its teachings and pointings are readily turned on itself. This is appealing on an emotional level to a non-joiner like me. I do have periods of doubt (maybe if I just spent more time gazing into the eyes of a photograph of Ramana…) but these alternative paths are not shut down or portrayed as fruitless. They can be used and inquired into and seen as fellow non-fixed points in a non-fixed universe.
Feelings as arisings
Resolving these feelings seems to be an important step in the path both in and of itself and also in clearing the way to deal with other possible blocks with clarity.59
The direct path offers other ways of dealing with feelings such as the ones I’ve discussed in this essay. Above I was investigating them as if the feelings actually pointed to something real. Feelings can also be dealt with more globally, depending on where you are in your direct-path inquiry. If what you once saw as physical objects are now seen as arisings in awareness and not evidence of an external reality, and if you see your body in this way also, you are ready to deal with subtler arisings such as thoughts and feelings more comprehensively, cutting the root. I’m talking to myself here, reminding myself of what I’ve read, but supported in some small part by glimpses of clarity that provide the breadcrumbs telling me this is a real path. Fuller explication of this is best left to other writers.
Investigating the idea of “finishing”
Once you’ve called into doubt the certainty that your body is a physical object, walking around on physical ground, occasionally bumping into physical walls and chairs, other big shifts loom. The idea of “finishing” itself can be inquired into with questions like these:
❖What does “being finished” even mean in the direct path?
❖What is the role in my inquiry with regard to people who are seen as “finished”?
❖If people are not separate containers of experience, what sense does it make to inquire into how a teacher-figure experiences life?
There comes a point at which questions like these transition from being matters for idle speculation and word-shuffling to being stones in your chest that obstruct your breathing. When they edge toward the latter is when they should be dealt with.
You’ve read this far so I should probably tell you that you shouldn’t have. Most traditions speak against spending too much time speculating about the end of the path. It is seen as a waste of energy that could be spent on treading the path itself. Also, if you’re striving for a major shift in perspective, how well can you even envision that shift from the perspective you now have? I understand these cautions, but I give in to the urge to speculate anyway. After years and years of work on this path, I want to leave nothing out when it comes to inquiring. Maybe an inquiry into being finished is not fruitful, but a mixture of frustration and hope drives me there anyway. I go against my own advice about when to address questions and broaden my inquiry to try to uncover a hidden key. And I share it in the hope that the alchemy of writing will be transformative.
The glimpses, the thrill of questioning basic assumptions, and the fellowship of genial companions and guides have all kept me on this path, through the frustrations, doubts, and fears. And, in turn, the path has quelled some other frustrations, doubts, and fears that were present in my everyday life. The times that this inquiry has held sway haven’t just been nice experiences, but also messages from another perspective. With continued inquiry and a love for awareness, all fixed points might drop away and all will taste of freedom.
57 Harding, D.E. (2013) On Having No Head, Sholland Trust. 58 See Reading List 59 A caveat here—If these feelings are impinging on your daily functioning, some sort of therapy is certainly appropriate and not at all at odds with the approach of the direct path.
About the Authors
David Boulter lives in Derby, England, where he is a maths teacher at a large Catholic secondary school. David bought his first PC computer at the turn of the millennium, and his interest in spirituality was ignited two days later when he asked Jeeves all about astral projection. A long-term meditator, David spent several years in the AMORC Rosicrucian Order before discovering the direct path in 2013.
As his neighbours can confirm, David enjoys playing guitar. He also amuses himself producing cartoons digitally. David is married to Jane and has a teenage son, Jack.
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Kavitha Chinnaiyan is an integrative cardiologist, wife, and mother. Spurred by a sense of dissatisfaction and an epiphany that no material success could dissipate it, she began the inward journey. She has studied Advaita Vedanta, yoga philosophy, and Kashmir Shaivism with various teachers. In 2013, she was led to the direct-path teachings of Greg Goode and Sri Atmananda Krishna Menon. She lives with her husband, two daughters, and beloved dog in Michigan, where she practises cardiology, teaches meditation, and holds regular classes, workshops, and retreats on yoga, tantra, and nonduality. She enjoys writing, travelling, reading, and spending time with her family. Sinces contributing to this anthology Kavitha has published two books.
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After 45 years working as a software developer, software architect, and CIO, Steve Diamond recently began a second career teaching mindfulness. His interest in spiritual pursuits dates to his teenage years. Alan Watts and Robert de Ropp were early influences. From 1975 to 1998 Steve studied nondual philosophy with Kenneth Mills. More recently he’s participated in many internet groups about nonduality. He has followed the direct path since 2013.
A lifelong lover of music, Steve holds a Bachelor of Music degree in theory and composition. He has sung in vocal ensembles including the Lane Justus Chorale and the Tucson Symphony Orchestra Chorus. Steve was born in New York City and now lives in Tucson, Arizona, where he enjoys music, art, hiking, reading, and writing.
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Priscilla Francis, the youngest of a large family, grew up in a diverse and accepting atmosphere. Though raised by devout Catholics, her formative years in Kuala Lumpur weren’t dogmatic or regimented but included a variety of cultural, philosophical, and religious ingredients, wherein everyone was encouraged to be uniquely themselves.
Thanks to her early years in which spirituality was centred and embedded in daily living, she feels naturally inclined to deepen her insights by simply extending the explorations to fresh environs. She continues to intuit her own evolving pathways via a stimulating tapestry of experiences woven from threads of various spiritual foundations as well as those of her everyday life events.
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James Nelson Hurley lives in midtown Manhattan with his wife Marcela Pulido, having arrived in Manhattan originally interested in pursuing a career in acting.
His creative interest turned within, due to an extraordinary experience he had on stage. In a scene studies class he had an epiphany: he transcended his persona and became the character. After he returned to his seat, he marvelled at what had just happened and wondered what that experie
nce was. Where did it go? Why wasn’t it here now?
Reading books by Abraham Maslow, Fritz Perls, Norman Vincent Peale, and ultimately meeting in 1976 his first teacher, Lester Levenson, he learned the Sedona Method Release Technique, which he taught for 20 years.
His initial pursuit still burning, James was led to Francis Lucille and the direct path in 1995. In 2003 James became certified in hypnosis and practised in Colombia and New York City until 2015. He now enjoys NYC theatre, photography, walks in Central Park, yoga, and travelling with his wife, always with Francis Lucille, Ramana, Nisargadatta or Atmananda close at hand.
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Stephen Joseph is the Dean of Humanities and Social Sciences at a community college and teaches a course in world religions. He has been engaged with various spiritual teachings since his late teens, originally inspired by Alan Watts and J. Krishnamurti. He lives in Pittsburgh (USA) and enjoys spending time with his family, travelling, and nurturing delusions of adequacy.
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In 2008, Kim Lai went to a Tony Parsons meeting, which sparked an interest in nonduality. He discovered the direct path at a meeting with Rupert Spira, which led him to the teachings of Jean Klein, Francis Lucille, Greg Goode, and Atmananda. Kim lives with his wife and three daughters in Sydney, Australia, where he runs the Sydney Non-Duality Meetup group. He likes literature, cinema, and comics.