peace is not a product

real peace (the experiential aspect of self-aware awareness) is not the product of anything. it need not be sought through achievements. it has no prerequisites attached to it. true peace is a natural state accessible to one and all regardless of circumstances. it is the unconditional, ever-present quality of consciousness resting within itself.

the perceived lack of peace, on the other hand, does come as a result of conditions. although peace is always present and accessible, it becomes obscured by mind-noise. when the mind and its stories loudly take over, the undercurrent of peace is overlooked and forgotten. all attention becomes diverted away from the infinitely fulfilling and nurturing experience of pure consciousness. distracting and often meaningless thought structures take center stage, are invested with overdue importance, and with the reference point of self-aware awareness receding from experiential memory, the experience of existential confusion and suffering sets in.

the human experience can become extremely complex and fraught with stress, yet even at its most challenging and chaotic moments the simplicity of peace has not gone anywhere. it is where it always is and always will be: here, now. the experienced absence of peace is only an illusion created by the inability - or often the unwillingness - to perceive it as the basic underlying quality of existence.

although the undercurrent of peace is profoundly simple and subtle (and therefore easy to miss), it is nevertheless extremely powerful. it is much more powerful than any product of mind since it endures absolutely everything and remains unchanged and perfectly unblemished throughout it all. it cannot be touched or altered in any way; it always, perfectly, indestructibly, is.

it is precisely this quality of permanent presence and accessibility that simultaneously allows us to take the experience of peace for granted and makes it the most powerful force in our lives. it is sadly ironic that our greatest asset is the one we most readily devalue, forget, and lose touch with.

lost in the wilderness of mind

to be consumed by mind-identification is like being lost in a vast and alien wilderness. there is a constant urgency to "go somewhere," to "find something"... to arrive finally at a comfortable, non-threatening place. nearly every landscape we encounter, however, has a feeling of unfamiliarity (or "not-right-ness") attached to it, and much of the time we suffer from an underlying sense that - despite being surrounded by the people and places we're familiar with - we ourselves are caught in a strange and unsettling inner space.

in devoting the main thrust of our energy or awareness to the mind, our experience naturally becomes defined by the attributes of mental functioning. we lose ourselves in the infinitely complex labyrinth of thought in all of its forms: memories, speculations, fears, desires, regrets, obsessions... we become desperately entangled in the mental "story of me."

just as we can sit and concentrate heavily upon the physical sensation of inhabiting our body and thus temporarily experience ourselves as primarily a physical entity, by concentrating our awareness upon the mind we experience ourselves as primarily a mental entity. the difference between the two is that focusing awareness on the physical sensations associated with inhabiting a body brings us into the present, real moment (raising our consciousness out of the thorny entanglement of mind-identification), while devoting our energy to the mind only furthers our entrenchment in a delusional perception of reality.

the "answer" to our mental search for truth lies beyond the mind; it is wordless, thoughtless. it is revealed in the midst of utter silence because it is the felt experience of what we are. no concept, belief or theory is needed to "bridge the gap" between the state of existential ignorance and innate knowingness, because no such gap exists. when a person is said to experience awakening or realization, change only occurs at the level of awareness, not at the level of being (i.e. one realizes what one always was, as opposed to one becoming something one wasn't).

so to return to the first idea addressed in this post, a return from the unsettling wilderness of mind-identification is possible - but not by taking the right turns or seeking out the correct mental landscape. further engagement in the mind's labyrinth - regardless of the intention behind it - can only solidify the attachment of consciousness to mind. what's called for instead is a disengagement from the mental perspective; a "pulling back" from the world of thought and an abidance in the context of silent awareness.

this is often difficult to do because it feels like "quitting" on one's problems. the temptation to resolve all of the knots - which in actuality don't need resolving in terms of self-realization since the mind is not who we are - holds one back. it is a gravitational force that's difficult to overcome. once achieved, however, a powerful rupture in the consciousness-mind entanglement takes place, and with practice it becomes easier to recede from the highly specified context of mind-identification to the more encompassing context of silent awareness.

wordless answer

if every single memory, opinion, belief and self-associated thought suddenly and irrevocably exited your consciousness, and you became a total blank slate in terms of mental self-definition, would the you you currently think yourself to be cease to exist? what would be the significance of such an event? would the mental you that existed prior to it come to an end, and a new - though perhaps similar - mental self emerge? would it represent the existence of two separate entities, two different egos, in one human body? or would there remain an underlying, prevailing truth throughout? and if so, what is it about you now that would be just as true about you if you forever lost access to every memory, and every thought you've ever had?

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.

truth-concealer

the ego is nothing more than a grouping of memories, imaginings and expectations that we erroneously identify as the complete and final truth of what we are. the truth of being is always there, waiting and obvious.

the difficulty in recognizing our true identity lies in the fact that we're too distracted to be able to notice it. our attention is single-heartedly devoted to this collection of thoughts called the ego.

for spiritual purposes, perhaps the single most important fact about the ego is that it requires constant maintenance in order to maintain its pseudo-existence. when we impartially observe the mind's output without consciously adding to it, the ego begins losing its inertial force.

this weakens it, messing up it's whole momentum and creating occasional gaps in mentation. the ego dies in the spaces between thoughts. it needs a constant stream of noise in order to cover the underlying truth and successfully distract us from self-realization.

the sole function of the ego is to distract us from the truth. it makes a lot of commotion, arresting our attention. in contrast, the base of truth is ever-present, silent and unmoving. it's hard to identify because there's no background or context against which it can be picked out; it is the context. that's also what makes it so incredibly obvious once recognized.

the ego has taken so many forms throughout our lives. identities shift on a whim, especially at young ages. entire segments of the ego are lost, edited and added on a continual basis.

the truth is the one thing that's been equally present in each instance of our existence. though it may be obvious and simple, its realization is unspeakably life-altering. the positive change it entails cannot be adequately described because language itself parts from the false assumption of deleniation, limitation.

mental tapestry

the mental tapestry is the series of thoughts and emotions we superimpose over reality.

we apply it most strongly to the places and people that we come into contact with frequently.

we usually come to the conclusion that the same places, people and situations are no longer satisfying to us, are in fact acting as a hindrance to our happiness.

unable to perceive the freshness that lies beneath, we assume this tapestry is life itself and come to negative conclusions about it.

if we knew this to be true, we would waste no time in shredding apart all of the tapestries we've woven over life to reveal the underlying pristine nature of reality.

thought’s no barrier

what does it matter what you actually think about? in thinking about this or that, the emphasis is still on what's being thought about.

any thought, no matter how beautiful or loving, is still a distraction from the truth that's present before, during and after it. but that's all it is - a potential distraction, not a destroyer.