We had clichés back then. Perhaps all youth cultures do. I said them myself, those well-meaning and aspiring but ultimately hollow words. Until finally they spawned a so-called New Age movement (or rather 'fashion') and they became something to gently ridicule. "We're all one, man!" was a favourite, I remember, said in later lampooning years with conspicuous peace signs, fake awe and a vacant expression.
How ironic that more than thirty years later, I should actually gain first hand experience of the truth of that favourite. Perhaps a little kensho on the way to enlightenment. Or a life-changing direct experience of emptiness. I remember holding my teacher's arms with my face streaming with tears and somehow saying, "I had no idea..."
Since then I have tried to be true to my realisations - those encountered and those still to come - by saying only what I know. Piet Hut was kind enough to write a comment to my last blog entry and it reminds me of other clichés I used to say and hear about the illusory nature of time. I rejoice in his insight but I have learnt my lesson; I will humbly wait till it is part of my personal experience before I will say aught about it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
You touch upon a fascinating point, Storm. On the one hand, we should never pretend to have a deeper insight than what we can really see. On the other hand, one of our learning methods is to explore by doing as if we see something and then playing with that to see what we see when we try to see what we playfully suggested to ourselves we could see . . . . very much like the use of a working hypothesis in science -- not a belief and not a disbelief, but more a "what if". Play as Being. Play as if samsara had never arisen. If we give ourselves occasionally a little 9-second present inviting ourselves to unwrap the covers of "samsara has never arisen", what happens when we open the box?
ReplyDelete