Recursive Dream

Becoming Nobody

This silence, this moment, every moment, if it's genuinely inside you, brings what you need. There's nothing to believe. Only when I stopped believing in myself did I come into this beauty. Sit quietly, and listen for a voice that will say, 'Be more silent.' Die and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign that you've died. Your old life was a frantic running from silence. Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking. Live in silence. —Rumi

Since returning from India, much has changed within me. My attempts to describe these changes seem to confuse more than clarify. Perhaps I should simply tell people I'm doing well and leave the rest aside, but this is not a boon I would keep to myself. The path is as varied as our personalities, but the mechanics are the same. We were all born to experience life in a state of acceptance, peace, equanimity, and joy. Our sense of suffering, lack, and entitlement come from the ego, which is nothing more than thought we have come to identify with. Distance from thought naturally dissolves this illusory self. Thought itself gradually subsides and is replaced by Silence, a state far more agreeable than any temporary reality created by the mind.

I suppose it's strange to think of losing one's self the way one might lose a pair of socks, but that's how it happened for me: one day I looked around and discovered I was missing! This discovery was equal parts amusing and liberating. The sense of a separate physical self in space is still present, but isn't particularly strong and each day the outer world feels a bit closer and more intimate. Thoughts arise as whispers and any active thinking process is quickly identified as a distraction. Days pass quickly in a persistent state of flow regardless of activity.

An unexpected side effect has been the cessation of desire or motivation to do much of anything. My most coherent accomplishment since returning home has been binge watching Game Of Thrones, which I missed during its run. (They did Dany a bit dirty, didn't they?) We take for granted that someone will be there to have goals, attachments, and motivations, but what happens when they're gone? Not much, apparently! Some people describe being depressed during this phase of spiritual awakening; I assume they were high achievers. I take particular joy in people living lives that would have previously been a cause for inspiration or jealousy: somehow their experience is as good as if I were experiencing it — better, even, since I don't have to go to all the trouble! 😂

Solitude is in the mind of humanity and Silence is ever-speaking. It is the perennial flow of language. It is interrupted by speaking; the words obstruct this mute language. Silence is permanent and benefits the whole of humanity. —Sri Ramana Maharshi

I still experience feelings and emotions, but have nowhere to hide them; they are dealt with immediately and viscerally. This week has been particularly intense as I said goodbye to my partner of three years (four if you count our year apart). Breaking up with someone is much harder than being broken up with, particularly when you can't offer much explanation for it beyond, "I crave indefinite solitude". Nobody else would have fared any better, though I imagine that's little consolation. In any case, she's a beautiful person and a wonderful companion who I evicted from a home and life she helped build. I hope I don't live to do that again.

I have never been a particularly ambitious man. I don't want to change the world, build a legacy, raise a family, or kindle a life-long love affair. I just want to be free from the cage of the mind — to experience life beyond the puny, tedious bounds of personal identification. Today, that feels more than possible: it feels inevitable. I don't know how it will be achieved, but I know this: I won't be there to enjoy it. No matter the price of that freedom, I pay it gladly.

It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work, and when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings. —Wendell Berry