There is a certain wisdom to be found in not choosing, and not insisting in being in the driver’s seat. When we make ourselves believe that we are solely or entirely responsible for what is happening to us, a sense of morbid guilt and regret ensues. We feel guilty for not leading the life we feel we’re supposed to have lead up to a certain time and age in our life. We feel regret at not having fulfilled or consummated those life wishes.
Why do we
feel that we are responsible for everything that happens to us? I believe
because we are so often exposed to blame when we are young, and this sets us up
for self-criticism. An alternate way of thinking is that, like babies, we are
all learning to crawl, to walk and then to run. We cannot learn to walk until
we have learned to crawl, and we
certainly can’t run until we know how to walk. Similarly, by viewing our
life as a series of stages, we are spared the burden of needing to get
everything right in one go or one shot.
When we are
in a dream, is there any reason to emerge from it? Instead, let us enjoy it,
knowing that we are not tied to what’s happening. This is a very important
point that I want you to ponder deeply. Are we our bodies? Is what we are doing
somehow tied to a sense of “I” or the ego?
The ego is
really only a series of mental patterns. It has no form, no structure and no
specific shape or color. We might confusedly think that we are “egoistic”, but
let us remind ourselves that “egoistic” is not a “thing” or a reified identity.
It is only a habit of deludedly thinking there is a fixed self that is behind
all the phenomena around us. Even when we face criticism and blame, we should
never fall into the trap that there is a fixed “self” who is the object of
criticism or blame. This is because the awareness is not tied to a specific
self. That self is only a creation of the mind. And, more so, the self is
constantly changing. But most importantly, there is never an ultimate self that
we can say “sums up” who we are. Who we are is completely beyond the
phenomenal. Our original face has nothing to do with the phenomenal world.
But does
that mean that we should hover over the world and stay away from it? This is
interesting: it’s like someone who suddenly awakens from a bad dream, and is so
afraid of falling asleep for fear that she or he will fall into the same dream
all over again. If we know that it’s literally “just a dream”—something
temporary that our mind creates—would we be afraid of the phenomena? We need to
literally look into the eye of the storm to gain insight into this dream.
Put it in a
different way: if you are in the midst of a conflict that escalates, as long as
your mind remains calm and still, you will find that there is a kind of
“center” that is never subject to the fluctuations of the conflict. We may use
a lot of analogies to describe this quality or state. Among one of my favorites
is that of the “movie screen”. As violent and bloody as a horror movie can be,
does blood actually stain the movie screen? Does the blood that appears in a
movie actually affect the screen itself? If we think back to any number of
situations we have been in, we will find that the fundamental and primal
awareness is not affected by anything that comes through the six senses.
Life is like
a dream: we are living it but transcending it every moment. We are in the dream
and we suffer whatever consequences are involved in participating in the dream.
However, there is always an observer that is not really touched by the dream.
The nature of mind is such that, like the movie screen, it can never be
sectioned off as a character in the dream. It lacks the temporal and spatial
qualities that makes it appear as an actor or an element in the dream itself.
Instead, these images are simply projected onto the screen. Our true nature has
no part to play, other than to reflect the phenomena coming and going through
the workings of cause and effect.
If, out of
fear and despair, we tell ourselves, “I need to get out of this dream right
now”, then we have fallen into the trap (the proverbial “ditch”, as noted in
the opening vignette) of believing that there is a self that can awaken out
of the dream, that is solid, substantial and real. In fact, however, there is
no such thing. Everything has an empty nature and is coming together from cause
and conditions. What stays unchanging is the principle of impermanence,
emptiness, and no-self that forms the center of the movie screen metaphor. Impermanence
means that whatever appears on the screen has no lasting temporal existence. It
vanishes without a trace in the next frame. The belief that one frame connects
to the next is an illusion that is constructed by the mind itself. Emptiness
means that everything is compounded from a series of mental and physical heaps
or aggregates. The compounded nature of things makes them always dependent on
other things for their appearance, and are therefore interdependent. No Self
entails the absence of an enduring self that undercuts or underlies all
appearances.
The dream,
then, lacks a dreamer. And even the movie screen is only a kind of metaphor
that is used to describe the nature of mind. It is not designed to tell us what
mind is and where mind is located, since there is no actual “screen” that we
can point to as “a screen”. Rather, the screen metaphor is used to hint at the
impermanent, empty and non-self aspects
of our true nature.