Sunday, October 5, 2014

Not technical. Not an exercise.

 Sensation is not a made thing. It isn't an imagined thing or a thought thing. It is not an invoked thing. The word itself is deceiving, because it implies a static entity, whereas what one speaks of is a living experience.

This experience isn't technical. All the exercises in the world aren't sufficient to bring it into being; and I am not trying to work.

I am just living.

This idea of working and trying to work is ubiquitous. There's so much speech about inner work. Yet one doesn't really wish to engage in inner work; one wishes to live. This isn't technical either. It isn't an exercise.

The mind seizes the idea of working so firmly. It practically chokes it. Yet the voluntary sensation of Being is just that, voluntary: and the engagement is in life and in living, not in thinking and in planning, not in organizing and executing. Life shows up on its own, not because I command it to.

Once one lives, then one can organize and execute, think and plan: but until one lives, if one organizes, executes, thinks, and plans, then one forgets to live. One can't remember to live; because self remembering is remembering to live, not remembering some technical thing.

Discussions, hypotheses, and arguments about this are essentially pointless. Every single one of them is a trap of one kind or another. Living is just living, as simple as that; and it carries within it all of the compromises, as well as all the benefits, that are conferred by both our own lies and the grace that follows them. I am a liar; but grace does not lie. Things will be half bad, because that's how I am; but the better half that meets me from the voluntary manifestation of life does not know badness.

Sometimes I am out in the rain with the dog and this is all there is.

Other times I am in the office with a problem, and this is all there is.

In each moment, successively by moments, this is all there is. I can live within that to one degree or another; life makes that possible.

Being in relationship with the organism raises a nearly endless series of questions about what this relationship means. It is sensory; and yet all of the sensory phenomena are deeply organic and deeply energetic, that is, they are inwardly formed by an energy that meets them.

Do I know this? I don't; or I resist it. Even if I know it, I resist.

 So I don't actually want to work.  All of that idea belongs to some stale kind of habit. I want to come into relationship with living as a force, not a theory.

Then, I don't know what will happen. But I am willing to suffer it.


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