It's All Your Fault - and That's the Good News

All of your suffering is your fault. All of my suffering is my fault. It isn't our mother's fault or the fault of our teacher or boss or spouse or partner or dog or genes or the president or the economy or the weather. 

Our suffering has nothing to do with our income, our education, our weight, our life management skills, our time management skills, our bald spot, our less-than-stellar athletic abilities, our tendency to sweat too much, our questionable choice of friends, or...or...or...

You get the idea.

As long as I believe the THOUGHT that MY suffering comes from or because of YOU (or IT or THEM), then I have reinforced This Conceptual World. Which conceptual world? The one that is telling you at this very moment whether this essay (or the guy writing it) is "right on target" or "he must be full of sh#@!" It is the BELIEF in the THOUGHT (pretty much any thought referring to a "me," by the way) that creates this tense little knot of worry, uncertainty, and insecurity commonly referred to as "me."

Anytime we complain about anything - our coffee, the heat, the car, the kids - it is US creating our suffering in that moment. It is this believed THOUGHT/IDEA of "I" - and all of the requirements it has of life attached to it - that creates psychological pain.

Take the blame. EXPERIENCE the discomfort in the body without attempting to THINK your way out of it. Remember, it was thinking that created it. Don't try to think your way out of anything - especially thinking!

Be quiet. 

Ask, "what experiences this now?" If an answer comes to mind, it's wrong. Whatever you think, whatever answer comes, throw it away. Keep coming back to the question, "what experiences this now?" Devour the question and let the question devour you.

Then, blame disappears. Fault disappears. Suffering disappears. You disappear...and Life appears, just as it is - blame, fault, and suffering included.  And, that turns out to be more than enough. Weird, huh?

Danger - sort of

Any instruction other than to leave everything alone, to relax, to just rest as you are, is dangerous. It is dangerous because it points us back into the shadow realm of thought, technique, manipulation, alteration, effort, and theory.

The good news is that the very shining awareness that we are is the source and substance of thought and shadow, too. No matter what, we cannot be separated from Isness - we can only 'think' we have been separated. 

Isness is you-ing you. What a relief! There is nothing to do but rest as we are.

Mom

Awareness, Cognizing Emptiness, Knowing, Seeing, Space, Presence, It - whatever name we use - is an absolutely loving mother. She opens her arms and completely allows all that arises - welcomes it, in fact. We can rest in her arms and follow her example of loving allowance or we can fight. In the end, it doesn't really matter because we've never really left 'mom' anyway. But, in the meantime, one way makes for suffering and the other ease and grace. 

After the Fact

We only know what we are doing after-the-fact. The 'decision' to do whatever it is we're doing is 'made', that is, comes to us fully-formed. Then, we say 'I decided.' Thought is always after-the-fact. What we think of as our 'life' is only known in retrospect. Now is completely unknown.

No Escape

Seeing this - whatever 'this' is - isn't about finding a way to never experience anything uncomfortable or painful. It is about seeing that the discomfort or pain forms in and is composed of a sea of spacious awareness - just like a stream or a whirlpool is formed in and of the water that composes it. Just that enables us to sit squarely in the middle of it until we see clearly that no one is sitting in the middle of anything.

Sanskrit Lesson

If our sense of happiness and peace is dependent upon getting everything in our life 'lined up' just the way we want it, we're screwed - that's a Sanskrit term.

Our Bed of Nails

Our opinions, our beliefs, our certainties, our stories, our memories, our worries and projections - all of these make up the bed of nails on which we lie. Give them space - it is the solvent that dissolves them along with any idea of 'me'.