The Contemplation of Desire, Part I

   

Yesterday, I wrote a note to myself which said, 

“the essential problem with desire is that we are who we want to be.” 

It reminds me of another thought I had several days earlier where I asked myself the question whether my psyche and awareness was simply nothing more than a projection screen for my desires.

The word desire is derived from an archaic verb, desiderate, which is believed to come from the Latin -de, “down, ” and -sidere, “star.” In other words, it is something that comes “down from the stars,” from an higher level. It is probably related to the word consider, which means -con, with, and -sidere, “star.” 

Since we have come to the mention of considering, let’s consider Gurdjieff’s adage, consider outwardly always, inwardly never. We can reinterpret this now to say, “always think of others as born of heaven; but never think of yourself that way.” It’s an interesting wrinkle in the fabric of this phrase that deserves further consideration, and reminds me of the Dalai Lama’s comment that when he enters a room, he always sees himself as the lowest person.

In any event, desire is something that ought to come from a higher level — like our consideration of others. Yet when it comes from my ego, from myself, it is always considered as something for myself. Swedenborg’s contention was always that we are what we love; and of course what we love is what we desire. 

The difficulty is that we always love ourselves first.

I think it takes a great deal of contemplation and self observation to see this, “I am who I want to be.” It sounds childishly simple; yet the psychological and spiritual mechanisms behind it are extraordinarily complex and come cocooned in a thick felt of denial. 

I don’t see how this works; I just take myself for granted. If I don’t ask questions about my desires, they rule me. It comes back to Gurdjieff’s contention: 

“…like all three-centered beings of our Great Universe, we men existing on the Earth, owing to the presence in us also of the factors for engendering the divine impulse of Objective Conscience, must always inevitably struggle with the two quite opposite functionings arising and proceeding in our common presence, the results of which are always sensed by us either as "desires" or as "nondesires."

     "'And so, only he who consciously assists the process of this inner struggle, and consciously assists the "nondesires" to prevail over the "desires," behaves in accordance with the Being of our Common Father Creator Himself; whereas he who consciously assists the contrary only increases His sorrow.”

The whole reason for this recommendation is that I am what I desire. 

To the extent that I see “I am” as my own, my desire doesn’t come from the stars. It does not stem from what created me and gave me life; I think I give myself life. Already, this is a fundamental abrogation of responsibility; I’m not responsible to anyone, I owed debts nowhere. In this way, by default, instead of being the servant of something higher than myself, I’m the slave of my own desire; and I think the point I’m making in my opening remark is that I just don’t see how my desire enslaves me. I become myself; but in a perverse way that renders me incapable of right relationship.

In this modern world of “self-help” and “self-realization,” the self is generally cast as the hero. It actually encourages me to become the slave of my own desire. Engendering and nurturing – even propagandizing — the inflation of my desire is a good thing and a right thing. 

I have a right to be who I am. 

I should be who I am. 

Others should get out of my damn way so that I can be who I am.

The question of just who I actually am is thrown by the wayside. Entitlement trumps all other considerations (contemplations of a higher entity and purpose.)

So I become my desires; and my desires enslave me. I chase them all day long.  If I watch myself carefully, I can see this taking place. The average state of the mind is to function as a perpetual motion machine serving desire. I want this. I want that. Sex, money, food, and fear. 

If I erect a temple of morals or principles meant to counteract the attraction of these powerbrokers, it’s actually a huge, empty structure. 

More on this in the next installment.

May you be well within today.

Lee

Lee van Laer is a Senior Editor at Parabola Magazine.