St Neot's Margin

 I read a very interesting book when I was a teenager called The Outsider by Colin Wilson (1956). In many ways, I enjoyed reading this book because it spoke to my own desire for a higher experience than what I had at the time: a kind of expanded field of consciousness that would lift me out of the boredom or the despair of suburban existence. One of the more complex ideas that Wilson relates is that of St. Neot's Margin.
  I don't quite remember the gist of the story of St. Neot, but Wilson was apparently travelling through a town called St Neots when he suddenly became lost, and panicked over the fact that he didn't know how to get back to a familiar town or road. When Wilson approached a stranger there and was confirmed that he was in the right place, he suddenly felt a veil lifted from him-- what has sometimes been described as "peak experiences" by psychologists such as Maslow and William James. Wilson theorized that by enforcing a kind of mini-crisis, a person can induce a peak experience. Many of his writings were devoted to figuring out how to do this, and how the mind can get out of its self-induced rut of staying too close to things that it becomes easily irritated or frustrated by trivialities.
    I would have to say that one example of a St. Neot experience I had was related to a foot problem I had last year. At that time, I literally panicked over the fact that I might not be able to walk properly, knowing how much I value walking in my life. It was only after the foot gradually began to heal that there was this strange feeling: not only of gratitude toward not having a problem with the foot, but over what having the problem did for me. What having a crisis does is that it forces a person to realize that so many things they take for granted are so precious: walking, being pain-free, being able to move one's body without having to strategize about it, socializing with loved ones, and so on. All of these things were suddenly clear to me when the crisis of "losing" them was imminent. What this experience also did for me was to erase all the minor irritants that might have consumed my life had the problem not been present. There are so many vexations that a person has in a day to day life that, when looked at from a distance, don't mean very much. But if a person does not have a sufficient focusing device such as a challenge to resolve or even a deep regret those little things will just get into a person's skin, like an itch that cannot be fully scratched or removed.
   The question then becomes, how can one retain this state of being without having to go through an anxiety-inducing crisis? I think that part of the answer is maintaining a spiritual practice that keeps a person awake rather than becoming a mechanical recitation. The practice of slowing down and really appreciating what one has, as well as being able to do one thing fully and with a full heart, are ways to let go of trivial thoughts and desires, as well as settle into what is truly important to a person, including their physical and mental states of being. At the end of the day, one can have a whole rack full of trophies on their bookshelves, but what do these trophies mean if one is not content in their own present mind and body?
    Master Sheng Yen's explanation about Chan and its distinction from Buddhism in general is very similar to the mind that is always present and is not clinging to vexations. In Tea Words Volume II, he remarks:

 One important phrase used in Chan can be translated as “to illuminate the mind and perceive buddha-nature." Why does the mind need illumination? It is because the mind of sentient beings is clouded in darkness, and this darkness must be lifted to see the true nature of reality. Thus, to illuminate the mind and perceive buddha-nature means leaving behind the mind of vexation in order to attain wisdom. So the goal of Chan practice is identical to the goal of Buddhism. (p.10)

The lifting of the darkness of attachments is part of what Wilson must have experienced when a crisis brought him to a state of this moment attention. Being lost in an unfamiliar place suddenly jolted him awake, thus giving him the impetus to let go of the small details that might have consumed his moment to moment existence (such as "getting somewhere on time" or "completing everything I want to do"). However important these things might be, there is a habit of clinging to these things as though they were really the only reality that there is. This is a pity; as Master Sheng Yen remarks, lifting the veil of vexations, self, desires, etc., one can behold a mind that is luminous, and that sees the whole world itself as contained in its own light. This mind is wisdom mind, not the mind of karma (fundamental mind) or vexations (discriminating mind). It is also a mind that can really feel the relief of just being, not having to become something for anyone or anything.

Sheng Yen, (2013) Tea Words Volume II. Elmhurst NY: Dharma Drum Publications

Wilson, C. (1956). The Outsider.  London: Golansz