Wake Up Now Blog

Our true nature–mysterious, ungraspable, ever present, and eternally awake–has no preferences for anything or anyone to be different from the way it is. It doesn’t, resist, judge, pick and choose, but rather welcomes each moment just as it is. It is the light behind all perceptions, the energy that drives all manifestation; it’s empty, yet ever aware, and it’s one and inseparable from what is–another facet of the precious jewel of the undivided! No matter what you do or don’t do, seek or don’t seek, believe or don’t believe, you can never get closer or farther away; it’s who you already are, nearer and more intimate than breath itself.

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Just had a lovely session with a woman this morning who said she longed to awaken to the truth because she felt strongly motivated to put an end to her anxiety and depression. I invited her to rest here, in this moment, and welcome whatever arises. Right now, I said, without consulting your mind, does anything need to be different from the way it is? Is anything missing, even enlightenment? No, no…t at all, she said, after a pause. Now ask yourself, who is experiencing this moment right now? Anything you experience is just an object of experience–but who is the experiencer? She sat with this question in silence for a long time, then finally said, I don’t know. Then rest in this not knowing, I offered. What is it like? Again, after a long pause, she said, it’s limitless and silent; it has no edges. Then she started to cry, with tears of gratitude and wonder. I can’t believe it, she said. I can’t believe this is what I am–this vast mystery. Yes, I said, this is it. Just rest as you are, and let everything arise in you. This is the enlightenment you’ve been seeking.

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As I drove to lead satsang on Saturday morning, it occurred to me that we were gathering to pay homage to nothing–not nothing as opposed to something, of course, but the radiant, all-pervasive Nothing that has no opposite and encompasses everything. Many spiritual folks gather on the weekend to worship and exalt the sacred, the good, the positive, the illumined, in contrast to the profane, the bad, the negative, the endarkened. But we devote ourselves to realizing and embodying Nothing–the ungraspable nothing at the heart of everything that can’t even be named or found but inspires in us the deepest reverence and surrender. What foolishness!

Recently I attended a cultural diversity festival in Tucson, and as I walked the streets between events, I was swept along by an enthusiastic crowd of people holding signs and chanting “We are the 99 percent.” I had unexpectedly become part of the Occupy Tucson group wending its way through the downtown. As I chanted along with hundreds of others, I found myself moved to tears. Something about this spontaneous upwelling of care and concern, not only for one’s individual welfare, but also for our collective well-being, touched me deeply.

Recognizing that we’re not separate, that we’re expressions of one essence, naturally moves us to share, to include, to embrace, to care, to support, because what I am, you are, and what I have is yours as well. We don’t need to adhere to some political dogma to be moved to take action in the face of obvious inequity and injustice. Problems arise only when we stop being moved and responsive to life as it is, and become fixated in a particular view or ideology. Then we’re once again trapped in the mind, and we do violence as we try to impose our ideas on others.

Among the many hand-written signs held high at this event, one in particular caught my attention: “Due to budget cuts, the light at the end of the tunnel has been turned off.” Now, if we have some spiritual insight, we realize that any apparent “tunnel” is a creation of the mind, and the light shines not at the end of some endless progression, but right here, in this precious moment, with all its perfect imperfection. From the perspective of our essential nature, adversity and disappointment provide a welcome opportunity to turn away from our constant demand that life be different (better, bigger, more appealing) than it is right now and learn to become a lover of what is.

At the same time, for many people, especially those who possess less than most and have suffered more than most, hope for a better life in the future may be the one thought that keeps them going, the one refuge they have from complete despair. Without recourse to practices for working with beliefs and expectations–and in most cases without the leisure to learn them–they ask to feel supported in their efforts to improve their life. (I hesitate to use the word “they” here, since “they” are us!)

Indeed, the US was founded on the promise of boundless resources and infinite potential, and though it may be an inherently unreliable promise, and its demise may be good news, millions have counted on it and are now deeply disillusioned. The movement to seek a more equitable distribution of wealth and opportunity seems so appropriate to the circumstances, and such a natural expression of our deep human wish for peace, happiness, and well-being, that the heart rises in compassionate response. If action spontaneously flows from this compassion, then we can welcome the flow, while being mindful of the tendency to rigidify into an ideology, a belief system, a point of view, as minds and movements are wont to do.

PS Occupy Tucson was the first demonstration I’ve taken part in since my student days in the late ’60s, and I found myself musing on a term that was used quite a bit back then, solidarity (which of course was also the name of the union movement in Poland that finally led to the end of the Communist regime). Isn’t solidarity just another way of saying “no separation”–that we share this human life together, and that your well-being and my well-being are inextricable? In the heart, there is only solidarity.

I first met Steve Jobs in the mid-70s at the tiny zendo in Los Altos where we practiced with the same teacher, Kobun Chino Otogawa. At the time he was a skinny, intense kid with long hair and a scraggly beard who had recently dropped out of Reed and was reportedly tinkering with electronics in his parents’ garage. I knew him mostly in passing, as he meditated at the zendo only sporadically.

In 1982, after spending some years as a Zen monk, I happened upon Steve’s face on the cover of Time magazine and only then realized that he had become a powerful player in the emerging personal computer industry. Since I was fresh out of robes and in need of a job, I called him at Apple thinking he might have an editing position available. Steve was gracious enough to take my call in person and referred me to someone he thought might be able to help. Nothing ever came of the referral, but I appreciated his caring.

Years later, as my book Meditation for Dummies neared publication, I once again called Steve, this time to ask if he would be willing to write an endorsement, and once again he took my call in person, even though we barely knew one another. He was quite busy, he said, but he would give it some thought and get back to me. I never heard back, but again I appreciated his willingness to take a moment from his unimaginably complex life to connect.

Friends who knew them both reported that Steve remained close to his Zen teacher over the years, helping to support Kobun financially after he left the Bay Area and often inviting him to stay at his house in Woodacre when he was in town.  The influence of Steve’s years of meditation practice shines through in his dedication to the freshness of beginner’s mind, which fueled his extraordinary inventiveness, and in this oft-quoted passage from his Stanford commencement address of 2005:

“Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.”

The ego, which is really nothing but self-referential thinking, tends to get a bad rap in spiritual circles. When seen in the light of awareness, it’s no more of a problem than the sounds of the birds or the clouds in the sky. In fact, it’s touching how the mind tries so hard to protect and defend what doesn’t really exist. Suffering only arises when we believe what the mind is trying to tell us. Thoughts are just contractions in awareness, expressions of our inherent true nature, just as waves are expressions of the ocean or clouds are expressions of the sky. Allow thoughts to come and go like clouds, and remember–you are the sky.

Awakening is usually a sudden, unexpected, tectonic shift in the locus of identity. One moment you’re convinced that you are your story and your personality, the next moment the apparent bottom has dropped out and a limitless new “you” has revealed itself–impersonal, eternal, indestructible, nonlocatable, serene. The Greeks called this shift metanoia, literally, “beyond the mind.” The Buddhists call it by many names, but one of the most revealing is ashraya paravritti, an overturning of the very ground of consciousness. It’s an event that is unparalleled and life-changing.

Until this shift has occurred in your case, here and now, in this body-mind, you’re still dabbling in comforting spiritual concepts. The recognition is direct, experiential, and unmistakable, and your way of experiencing life is radically altered. Otherwise, as my teacher Jean Klein used to say, you haven’t left the garage. There needn’t be dazzling lights, waves of bliss, or outbursts of uncontrollable laughter; the recognition can just as well be accompanied by a quiet “aha.” The key is that you now know who you really are.

Yes, awakened awareness is your natural state, and you haven’t been apart from it even for an instant–but just reading these words, or any of the other wonderful pointers so widely available these days, won’t relieve your suffering and confusion and bring you lasting happiness and peace. To paraphrase an old Zen saying, a Facebook cake won’t satisfy your hunger–you’ve got to bite into the real thing and taste the sweetness and texture for yourself. Nothing less will do.

If you find yourself checking your email or your Facebook page regularly to escape from your life, to avoid unpleasant feelings like loneliness or pain, to provide momentary relief for your hunger for genuine connection and authentic experience, try this alternative.

Instead of checking your computer yet again, just stop, and be present for what is right now. Instead of running from unpleasant experience, welcome whatever is arising with compassionate attention, without trying to resist or escape it. Notice the sensations, the feelings, the thoughts, the stories–and notice also the silent, aware space in which these experiences are arising. Just stop and rest in this silent presence for a few moments, or longer.

Now, without referring to your thoughts and ideas, ask yourself, “Is there anything missing from this moment right now?” Let the question resonate deeply. Notice the mind’s tendency to look for problems and inadequacies, and return to the question: “Without consulting the mind, without referring to past or future, is anything missing from THIS moment right now?” What do you discover?

I’m often asked whether psychotherapy can be helpful in the process of spiritual awakening. The answer is, it depends on the therapist and the intention you bring to it. If you’re looking to fix or improve yourself and craft a more appealing, successful version of you, then you’re feeding the self-image, ignoring the truth that nothing needs fixing or changing, and obscuring the radiant perfection that’s always right here and now, even (or especially!) in the most “imperfect” situations. By turning your back on the fullness of being, you step onto the endless wheel of becoming.

On the other hand, if your intention is to investigate the layers of memory, belief, and story that constitute the fiction of the separate self, and to bring attention to unexpressed emotions that have languished in the shadows since childhood–not to get rid of them, but instead to welcome them into the compassionate light of awareness–then psychotherapy can be a wonderful companion and ally in the unfolding. You’ll want a therapist who’s aligned with your intentions and knows the territory well. Otherwise, it’s easy to fall back into the habit of reinforcing the identification with the personal history, rather than loosening its grip on you.

As a teacher of the direct approach to spiritual awakening, I do sometimes recommend mindfulness meditation, which I practiced for many years as a Zen monk, but with several caveats. First of all, the progressive approach of mindfulness suggests that you’re involved in a process of cultivating certain mind-states in order to become a happier and more peaceful person, rather than returning to the inherent happiness and peace that are your birthright. As a result, you may end up focused on some distant goal of self-improvement instead of discovering the inherent perfection of this very moment. Also, by focusing attention on a particular object, like the breath, you may end up emphasizing and reifying the subject-object split, the core duality that the nondual teachings aim to dispel. Mindfulness can become a dualistic habit that’s extremely difficult to break.

At the same time, for many people—including the vast majority who have no interest in awakening— the practice of mindfulness provides an initiation into the recognition that mind and awareness are not inseparable, that they can have some space or distance from their thoughts, and that ultimately their emotions and mental states don’t define who they are. As simple and obvious as this recognition may be for some of us, it can a watershed, life-transforming moment for the uninitiated, after which they never quite see life in the same way again.

Mindfulness also has numerous well-documented benefits that contribute to a happier, healthier life. Practice it on a regular basis, and your immune system will grow stronger, your stress will diminish, your heart-rate and blood pressure will drop, your senses will sharpen and clarify, and you’ll start to enjoy each moment more fully. Quite a contrast to the unhealthy, stressed-out, caffeine fueled daze in which most folks stumble through life. On a relative level, it’s quite a beneficial way to spend 20 or 30 minutes each day.

As for those who are, in fact, drawn to awakening, the practice of meditation can be an excellent preamble and foundation for the deeper work of self-inquiry. It’s virtually impossible to work with thoughts and beliefs—and even more fundamentally, to inquire into the fundamental question who am I— until you have some space or distance from the contents of your mind. The main caveat is that mindfulness should not be an end in itself, but merely a stepping stone to spacious awareness, the nondual openness in which the separation between subject and object dissolves. Once you have some perspective on thoughts and feelings, let go of the meditator and the object of meditation, and just rest as openness. From time to time, allow the inquiry to arise naturally, crest, and then dissolve back into objectless openness. Ultimately the openness refers to itself, and your true nature shines forth without obstruction.

The teacher is a pointer back to our homeground of timeless presence. If we’re open and oriented toward truth, life has a wonderful way of presenting us with an endless series of teachers. Indeed, every moment can be a precious teacher, but certain people and situations are particularly powerful teachers, because they either share their love and wisdom with us, or they frustrate and disappoint us and force us to abandon our position of apparent control and take refuge in that which cannot be frustrated or disappointed. Then there are those who function knowingly as teachers, who abide in presence, and whose words arise from presence and have the potential to elicit a recognition in those who really listen.

These days, the wisdom of the great teachers and sages is readily available in books and online, and we can steep ourselves in their words without ever leaving the comfort of home. So why seek out a living teacher? Precisely because such a teacher makes us uncomfortable, stirs us up, confronts us in ways that words on a page rarely do. As the old saying goes, dead gurus don’t kick ass. The living teacher can gently (or not so gently) point out our stuck places, our habitual patterns, our resistance to actually challenging our beliefs and stories. I remember the first time I asked a question of Jean Klein, his answer cut me to the quick, as if I’d been completely seen through, all my pretenses had been penetrated, and I was left with nothing to hold on to. In that moment I realized that I had found my teacher.

But with scores of teachers out there to choose from, how can you discern which ones are genuine, and which one is appropriate for you? First of all, the true teacher says what you already know to be true deep down; the teachings resonate for you as if they came from inside and articulate what you’ve been on the verge of recognizing but haven’t yet been able to put into words. The true teacher doesn’t accept your projections of specialness and authority and manipulate them for her own benefit; instead she gives you back your projections because she sees you as an equal on this endless journey of awakening and embodying the truth, one who has the same inherent wisdom and compassion but perhaps hasn’t yet actualized it as fully. The true teacher is an ordinary human being, with the usual human preferences and predilections (and doesn’t pretend to be otherwise), but one who is remarkably happy, peaceful, and loving, no matter what happens, because he simply doesn’t attach to positions or identities (even spiritual ones). By being free of the role of teacher, the true teacher frees you of the role of student and invites you to see that awakening is a living possibility in every moment.

The ultimate truth is quite simple: The separate self is an illusion, and love (consciousness, emptiness, true nature) is all there is. Every apparent arising is an embodiment and expression of this love and points directly back to its source. But when we seek love in the arising—the object, the other—rather than in its source, the love eludes our grasp.

Instead, we can see beyond the form to the love that it embodies—or, in other words, allow the emptiness behind the eyes to recognize itself in the empty fullness before the eyes. This nondual recognition is the ultimate fulfillment, the end of all seeking, and naturally gives rise to love and delight,.

At the same time, for some mysterious reason, certain forms appeal to us more than others, certain voices evoke a deeper, more harmonious resonance, certain faces touch and delight us in ways that others do not. No doubt early life experiences, stored in primal areas of the brain, come into play. At the absolute level, everyone and everything is an equal expression of truth; at the human level, we have particular preferences and predilections, impulses and desires, that can’t be denied or rejected in our attachment to the absolute. “Nondual” means nothing left out.

This is one of the core paradoxes of the awakened life—one that is often ignored or glossed over in our emphasis on the clarity and simplicity of the absolute perspective. As long as we live through this human form, we’re bound to partake of the karmic bundle that accompanies it—the feelings and thoughts, likes and dislikes, desires and, yes, fears. Once we know ourselves to be the emptiness that can’t be grasped or defined, we no longer identify with this bundle, no longer take it to be who we are, no longer get caught by it, at least not for long—yet it continues to arise here, and we continue to express it in our interactions with others.

The difference lies not in the content—though that does gradually change and unravel—but in our relationship to it. Are the feelings, passions, and preferences taken seriously, held on to tightly, defended, acted out unconsciously, and allowed to hide our true nature as heavy cloud cover hides the sun? Or are they held lightly, like a garment that’s worn in daily life but known to be just an outer layer of personality over the limitless freedom of who we really are?

When we recognize that the personality, the humanness, with all its quirks and idiosyncrasies, is not who we really are, it becomes just a beautiful vehicle for the truth of who we are to “sound through” (the root meaning of “persona”). There’s no need to change it in any way. We can play with other personalities in the mysterious dance of relationship, allowing our humanness to express itself fully, while remaining firmly rooted in the freedom that underlies and is undisturbed by the dance! Meeting in this freedom, beyond the personality, makes genuine intimacy possible.