Going Clear

In his book THE WISDOM PARADOX, Elkhonon Goldberg states that sometimes you have to make things more complicated before finding the simple way through, before finding the inherent simplicity. For me, life has been about finding some simple, apparently irreducible something. And while Joseph Campbell talked about "following your bliss", i would say I have more followed my silence.

Life, people, and all the confused motivational stirrings have tended to strike me as unnecessarily noisy. Psychologically, and socially, people most often strike me as murky. And experiencing one's critique of life, people, oneself as primarily aesthetic, ethics and any moral sort of high ground have seemed less unreachable and more irrelevant to me. When one looks for simplicity, the complications that come from acting unethically most often make those options seem about as palatable as eating your own refuse, which is essentially what is happening in such a case. Many people feel like they get strong by feeding themselves on their own shit, and they do in a certain way, but it also maintains unhappiness...seemingly categorically. Consumerism of planned obsolescent "goods" is an obvious example of eating our own shit; for a while, we had the strongest economy that could be built on shit and we are starting to face the effects. Garbage in, garbage out as they say.

In this interest of finding silence or simplicity, meditation once seemed like a fruitful path. After years of studying all kinds of methods, techniques, and research, I have found myself wanting to divest myself of the excess cultural baggage that can come along with the pursuit of meditation, silence, simplicity, personal peacefulness. I think it is possible, and perhaps valuable for someone else as well, to strip away the majority of accoutrements. The medium is the message. It looks to me that there are two ideas that are helpful and necessary in finding clarity. Everyone's path, and therefore method, of finding clarity is unique; whatever anyone might do with clarity is also unique. Having too much extra baggage seems to only slow us down in getting there.

The first idea is that meditation is the willingness to return. No one can tell you what it is a willingness to return to and have the telling be an actual return. So if you think of meditation as balance, you can always ask yourself what would return you to balance. Sometimes rest returns me to balance, sometimes humor, etc. When we get used to the idea that it can be almost anything, depending on the situation and our current state of mind, we can begin to look for what that thing is in any given moment. And of course, we can learn from and share with others. (Sometimes communion is what returns me to balance.)

The second idea is one that describes balance. I find that it is helpful to think of six points, each one connected to one other, making a sort of line. The front/back directions/line involve whatever might be seen/felt as going forward or going back. So one part of balance involves moving forward enough, moving back enough, and being able to be still enough. When we're off-balance forward, we're too aggressive or needy of something. When we're off-balance backward, we're fearful or depressed, feeling victimized rather than competent. The second pair of points involves the up/down directional. At the base lies play and creativity, abiding consciousness is at the top, and there is a full range in between. Many theorists, teachers, and systems have presented this sort of spectrum. When, in any given moment, I'm responding from too low on the spectrum, I will be missing the big picture in some way, acting too immaturely or too impulsively or too bluntly. When I'm responding from too high, I'll seem to be stretching, seem preachy, come across as too conceptual or irrelevant by showing up with something that may be subtle but not effective. And the left/right points involve tight focus (like self-focus) or open awareness. When I'm too focused on one thing, I'll have trouble appreciating the overall situation. When I'm too focused on many things, I'll be distracted and uncertain, finding it hard to make decisions that seem to work.

The actual "point" of psychological balance is so small it isn't there; it's precise as a needle that reaches a point of nothingness. Because my mind and my situation always move, the point is always somewhere but never fixed. The more I intend to find that point and move to as well as "from" that point rather than something noisier or murkier, the more affinity or resonance I have with it, the more balanced I feel and act. When I am willing to do what it takes to return, whether I am moving or relatively still, the more I feel balanced, the more life seems clear, the more meditation seems to arise on its own. I stop feeding the imbalance that feeds on itself.

Two ideas. Balance and the willingness to return to balance.