everything changes. nothing changes.

paradoxes abound in the arena of spiritual awakening. one such paradox involves the concepts of change versus no change, or the possibility of doing something to effect awakening versus the idea that no sum of actions can produce such a state.

while on the surface these arguments seem to conflict, in truth they run parallel to one another and describe the process of awakening from alternate and equally valid perspectives.

on the one hand, undeniable changes take place during genuine spiritual development. habitual behaviors, tendencies of mind and emotional patterns are naturally shed as love replaces fear as our prevailing experience and the cornerstone of our relationship to life. goals that previously dominated our lives fizzle out and die, and a completely new way of being and reason for existing emerges.

and yet these very real changes only take place at the level of experience, thought, action. they are the natural byproducts of an abiding recognition of that which is ultimately changeless and ever-present within ourselves. the realization that nothing true about what we are ever has, can, or will change is what - seemingly paradoxically - brings about all of the changes in behavior typically associated with the awakened state.

but the cart should not be placed before the horse, since emulating the byproducts of awakening will never produce awakening itself. it would be as if someone shaved their head and laid in bed all day hoping to get cancer. forcing ourselves to act happy and nonjudgemental is exactly the type of repressive action that keeps us cut off from a direct confrontation with our true nature.

enlightenment cannot be brought about by action, but can be allowed to emerge naturally by ceasing to engage in the particular set of actions that have obscured it from our awareness. a certain kind of action is required in order to identify and relinquish these repressive behaviors, but it comes about through a more objective and non-manipulative stance than is traditionally associated with active involvement (it is more of an "allowing" than a "bringing about").

at some point in our spiritual development, then, we must accept that: (1) awakening or enlightenment is not what we imagined it to be, has not been tailored to specifically address our deepest desires and wildest fantasies; and (2) the part we can play in the process of awakening - if indeed the desire for it has matured sufficiently within us - does not in any way resemble pretending like we're already enlightened and free of conflict. it requires us to stop pretending, which on the level of behavior can take any number of forms (many of which don't exactly coincide with the idealized image of a serene, compassionate spiritual student).

ultimately, in order to awaken we've got to cut the crap and come face to face with all the shit we've been trying to avoid our entire lives. are we ready to do that? or would we rather keep on playing the game and deluding ourselves for a while? both options are fine, but the answer shows us whether or not we're truly serious about waking up.

when death implies victory

the ego wants external things as part of an unconscious drive to fulfill its inherent sense of lack. this feeling of "not-enoughness" is intrinsic to the ego, which in essence can be defined as a mechanism designed to perpetuate the non-recognition of formlessness as true identity.

there's a funny paradox here. the ego knows it needs something - anything - to bring about completion, satisfaction, rest, and it seeks it out in as many varied ways as there are forms in the world. it projects its need to identify with things onto anything, big or small, that seems suitable at the time. it comes from the assumption that if you put enough pieces of the puzzle together, finally you'll arrive at a complete picture and be content.

the paradox is that the whole reason behind the ego's drive to complete or save itself is its very own existence; when the ego comes apart, completion is realized as the natural state of being.

usually, when an organism is sick beyond its ability to repair itself, potential solutions are available externally and if applied correctly have the power to bring about healing and a restoration to the normal balance of things. the inability to find and apply the necessary external remedy results in death, which in this context implies failure.

in the ego's case - if for analogy's sake we take it to be a self-perpetuating psychological organism - the situation is completely reversed: what keeps it alive is the very act of unsuccessfully seeking out and applying remedy after supposed remedy (some of which may provide a temporary sense of completion), when the only real solution (de-identification with form) would bring about its death - which in this case would imply victory!

the ego is just that: an unresolvable need to find something that doesn't exist, the process itself of reaching out for more regardless of what one has, of wanting something different regardless of what is. what the ego seeks cannot be found because it wants something external to identify with that will finally make it complete. this is obviously impossible! what one is is what one is; it's already the case and doesn't need to be pieced together, found, thought up or somehow manufactured (through a spiritual practice for example) to be made real.

it's possible to be unaware of this reality, and what precludes that awareness are none other than the continuous ego-processes: self-definition through identification with thought and emotion; reliving the past and projecting into the future as a form of self-seeking; chronic resistance to what is, regardless of what that may be.

coming back to the puzzle image, picture a child confused into believing that who she is lies fragmented somewhere among countless puzzle pieces scattered across her playroom floor. her sense of desperation grows as she draws from one puzzle set after another (all of which have been confused into an unrecognizable mess), never sure if she's pursuing the right image but, in her panic, too afraid to stop her mad grasping.

imagine the profound relief, peace and joy brought on by the sudden realization of the simple truth: "oh my god! i've been playing with toys all along! i am already here, regardless of what happens to these puzzle pieces. they are irrelevant to who i am." now that the puzzles are no longer invested with the absolute seriousness of representing who she is, the child can actually enjoy them as they were meant to be - as games meant to produce joy, not suffering.

this is why we often hear about the response to spiritual awakening being a great, incredulous laugh. wouldn't you respond similarly if you suddenly realized you'd been seeking your identity in puzzles - toys! - when in fact the truth of who you were was always complete, readily available, obvious and infinitely simpler than the illusion you'd fallen into?