|
Post by zendancer on Oct 10, 2013 13:40:18 GMT -5
This last weekend I had an interesting conversation that made me think of the young guy who tried the Mooji meditation and either (1) lost his sense of personal selfhood or (2) suffered from what psychiatrists call "depersonalization syndrome." These two things may be the same phenomena talked about differently. In either case, he did not enjoy what had happened, and wished that his old sense of selfhood would return.
When Suzanne Segal had the same sort of thing happen to her, her response was similar to that of the young man--fear, horror, dismay, etc. Whether awareness continued 24/7 for the young man as Segal claimed is unknown, and her experience certainly sounds more dramatic as far as the way she described it. AAR, I re-read the part of her story where she met Jean Klein in an effort to understand what his advice was.
She explained to Klein that her sense of being an individual separate person had disappeared 10 years prior, and had never returned. He replied, "You mean there is no experience of a 'me'?"
Segal responded, "That's right. There's no 'me.' There used to be one, but now there isn't anymore."
Klein said, "Well, that's perfect."
Segal: But Jean, why is there so much anxiety? And why is there no joy?"
Klein: You must stop the part of the mind that constantly keeps trying to look back at the experience. Get that part out of the way, then joy will come."
Segal explains: No one else in the room could possibly have known how appropriate his words were. There was a part of the mind--perhaps what we call the self-reflective or introspective function--that kept turning to look and, finding emptiness, kept sending the message that something was wrong. It was a reflex that had developed during the years of living in the illusion of individuality, a reflex we commonly consider necessary to know ourselves. We "look within" repeatedly to determine what we think and feel, to make a study of ourselves and track our states of mind and heart. Now that there was no longer an "in" to look "into," the self-reflective reflex was adrift, but it persisted. It kept turning in and turning in, unable to come to terms with the fact that there was no "in" anymore, only emptiness.
Later she writes: What I had lacked during the entire twelve-year journey was calm acceptance. For twelve years I had recived no reassurance; I had been alone. The mind did not know what to make of it all, and it constantly searched for understanding and meaning. It took close to eleven years to finally accept that mind was simply incapable of grasping the vastness of the experience of no personal self. This acceptance cleared the way for the mind to comprehend that an ungraspable experience is just that. It's neither wrong nor crazy--its simply ungraspable.
Later in her book she has a quote from Ramana that seems appropriate.
Ramana: The fact is that any amount of action can be performed by the jnani without his identifying himself with it in any way or imagining that he is the doer. Some power acts through his body and uses his body to get the work done.
Questioner: You say the jnani sees no differences, yet it seems to me that he appreciates differences better than an ordinary man. In fact, all forms, all sounds, all tastes, etc. are the same to him as to others. If so, how can it be said that these are mere appearances?
Ramana: I have said that equality is the true sign of a jnani. The very term equality implies the existence of differences. It is a unity that the jnani perceives in all differences, which I call equality. Equality does not mean ignorance of distinctions. When you have the realization, you can see that these differences are very superficial, that they are not substantial or permanent and what is essential in all of these appearances is the one truth, the real. That I call unity.
The line that most interested me in Segal's account was what Klein said to her--"You must stop the part of the mind that constantly keeps trying to look back at the experience." Klein, as a person/Reality, is saying to a person/Reality, "Stop reflecting upon what happened, stop reflecting upon your story of what happened, and stop reflecting upon your interpretation of what happened. It's just a bad habit."
During this last weekend someone asked me, "Do you mean to say that in the past you felt as if you were an entity inside the body looking out at the world, and that that all changed on a particular day?" I said, "Yes, isn;t that you way you experience it? " He replied, "No, I have never felt like there was someone 'in here' looking 'out there. I have never known what I am or where I was located other than this body, and I have always looked to other people to help me figure out, from their reactions, what I should think or feel."
After further conversation, I wondered how many people feel as I once did, and how many feel the way this fellow described? IOW, how many people look within, reflectively, and check on their mental states, ideas, feelings, etc, and feel as if they are "inside" looking at a world "outside?" and how many people do not locate their selfhood inside at all? In my case, the "inside/outside" duality ceased on a particular day, and that is what ended the search. I realized that I was not "someone in here" looking at "a world out there;" I was Reality/the universe/beingness looking at Itself.
If someone does not identify as a person "in here," what is it that makes her feel like she is separate from the world around her? Any feedback?
|
|
|
Post by nowhereman on Oct 10, 2013 15:27:09 GMT -5
This last weekend I had an interesting conversation that made me think of the young guy who tried the Mooji meditation and either (1) lost his sense of personal selfhood or (2) suffered from what psychiatrists call "depersonalization syndrome." These two things may be the same phenomena talked about differently. In either case, he did not enjoy what had happened, and wished that his old sense of selfhood would return. When Suzanne Segal had the same sort of thing happen to her, her response was similar to that of the young man--fear, horror, dismay, etc. Whether awareness continued 24/7 for the young man as Segal claimed is unknown, and her experience certainly sounds more dramatic as far as the way she described it. AAR, I re-read the part of her story where she met Jean Klein in an effort to understand what his advice was. She explained to Klein that her sense of being an individual separate person had disappeared 10 years prior, and had never returned. He replied, "You mean there is no experience of a 'me'?" Segal responded, "That's right. There's no 'me.' There used to be one, but now there isn't anymore." Klein said, "Well, that's perfect." Segal: But Jean, why is there so much anxiety? And why is there no joy?" Klein: You must stop the part of the mind that constantly keeps trying to look back at the experience. Get that part out of the way, then joy will come." Segal explains: No one else in the room could possibly have known how appropriate his words were. There was a part of the mind--perhaps what we call the self-reflective or introspective function--that kept turning to look and, finding emptiness, kept sending the message that something was wrong. It was a reflex that had developed during the years of living in the illusion of individuality, a reflex we commonly consider necessary to know ourselves. We "look within" repeatedly to determine what we think and feel, to make a study of ourselves and track our states of mind and heart. Now that there was no longer an "in" to look "into," the self-reflective reflex was adrift, but it persisted. It kept turning in and turning in, unable to come to terms with the fact that there was no "in" anymore, only emptiness. Later she writes: What I had lacked during the entire twelve-year journey was calm acceptance. For twelve years I had recived no reassurance; I had been alone. The mind did not know what to make of it all, and it constantly searched for understanding and meaning. It took close to eleven years to finally accept that mind was simply incapable of grasping the vastness of the experience of no personal self. This acceptance cleared the way for the mind to comprehend that an ungraspable experience is just that. It's neither wrong nor crazy--its simply ungraspable.Later in her book she has a quote from Ramana that seems appropriate. Ramana: The fact is that any amount of action can be performed by the jnani without his identifying himself with it in any way or imagining that he is the doer. Some power acts through his body and uses his body to get the work done. Questioner: You say the jnani sees no differences, yet it seems to me that he appreciates differences better than an ordinary man. In fact, all forms, all sounds, all tastes, etc. are the same to him as to others. If so, how can it be said that these are mere appearances? Ramana: I have said that equality is the true sign of a jnani. The very term equality implies the existence of differences. It is a unity that the jnani perceives in all differences, which I call equality. Equality does not mean ignorance of distinctions. When you have the realization, you can see that these differences are very superficial, that they are not substantial or permanent and what is essential in all of these appearances is the one truth, the real. That I call unity. The line that most interested me in Segal's account was what Klein said to her--"You must stop the part of the mind that constantly keeps trying to look back at the experience." Klein, as a person/Reality, is saying to a person/Reality, "Stop reflecting upon what happened, stop reflecting upon your story of what happened, and stop reflecting upon your interpretation of what happened. It's just a bad habit." During this last weekend someone asked me, "Do you mean to say that in the past you felt as if you were an entity inside the body looking out at the world, and that that all changed on a particular day?" I said, "Yes, isn;t that you way you experience it? " He replied, "No, I have never felt like there was someone 'in here' looking 'out there. I have never known what I am or where I was located other than this body, and I have always looked to other people to help me figure out, from their reactions, what I should think or feel." After further conversation, I wondered how many people feel as I once did, and how many feel the way this fellow described? IOW, how many people look within, reflectively, and check on their mental states, ideas, feelings, etc, and feel as if they are "inside" looking at a world "outside?" and how many people do not locate their selfhood inside at all? In my case, the "inside/outside" duality ceased on a particular day, and that is what ended the search. I realized that I was not "someone in here" looking at "a world out there;" I was Reality/the universe/beingness looking at Itself. If someone does not identify as a person "in here," what is it that makes her feel like she is separate from the world around her? Any feedback? This can be very scary stuff to deal with when it comes to a place where we know the mind will never be able to understand nor translate what has happened. She found peace once she was able to accept that we have places where the mind cannot go nor understand.This kind of awakening is never easy for anyone until the peace of all understanding sees that somethings cannot be understood by mind and it's best to leave it at that. Nowhereman
|
|
|
Post by runstill on Oct 10, 2013 15:34:37 GMT -5
Maybe due to the fact that 99% of the world around them acts and believes in a separate self is the cause (for a no self ) confusion and angst.
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Oct 10, 2013 16:06:08 GMT -5
During this last weekend someone asked me, "Do you mean to say that in the past you felt as if you were an entity inside the body looking out at the world, and that that all changed on a particular day?" I said, "Yes, isn;t that you way you experience it? " He replied, "No, I have never felt like there was someone 'in here' looking 'out there. I have never known what I am or where I was located other than this body, and I have always looked to other people to help me figure out, from their reactions, what I should think or feel." After further conversation, I wondered how many people feel as I once did, and how many feel the way this fellow described? IOW, how many people look within, reflectively, and check on their mental states, ideas, feelings, etc, and feel as if they are "inside" looking at a world "outside?" and how many people do not locate their selfhood inside at all? In my case, the "inside/outside" duality ceased on a particular day, and that is what ended the search. I realized that I was not "someone in here" looking at "a world out there;" I was Reality/the universe/beingness looking at Itself. If someone does not identify as a person "in here," what is it that makes her feel like she is separate from the world around her? Any feedback? I would say I fell into that second category, ZD. I spent a long time trying to solidify that 'me' that everyone else seemed to be in possession of. It was all quite confusing. The separation I experienced was around that, i.e., not having a clue as to who I was. I can relate to Segal's self-reflective reflex creating a lot of distress. So in one sense, there was no solid me but in another sense there was a solid 'me that can't be identified' - if that makes any sense. That's what the reflex kept hitting.
|
|
|
Post by zendancer on Oct 10, 2013 16:58:07 GMT -5
During this last weekend someone asked me, "Do you mean to say that in the past you felt as if you were an entity inside the body looking out at the world, and that that all changed on a particular day?" I said, "Yes, isn;t that you way you experience it? " He replied, "No, I have never felt like there was someone 'in here' looking 'out there. I have never known what I am or where I was located other than this body, and I have always looked to other people to help me figure out, from their reactions, what I should think or feel." After further conversation, I wondered how many people feel as I once did, and how many feel the way this fellow described? IOW, how many people look within, reflectively, and check on their mental states, ideas, feelings, etc, and feel as if they are "inside" looking at a world "outside?" and how many people do not locate their selfhood inside at all? In my case, the "inside/outside" duality ceased on a particular day, and that is what ended the search. I realized that I was not "someone in here" looking at "a world out there;" I was Reality/the universe/beingness looking at Itself. If someone does not identify as a person "in here," what is it that makes her feel like she is separate from the world around her? Any feedback? I would say I fell into that second category, ZD. I spent a long time trying to solidify that 'me' that everyone else seemed to be in possession of. It was all quite confusing. The separation I experienced was around that, i.e., not having a clue as to who I was. I can relate to Segal's self-reflective reflex creating a lot of distress. So in one sense, there was no solid me but in another sense there was a solid 'me that can't be identified' - if that makes any sense. That's what the reflex kept hitting. Quinn: That's what I'm interested in, and you describe your situation exactly as two or three others have described it. Some people--let's call them "people with a strong center"-- have a very strong sense of "me" at a very early age. It appears that these people (I include myself) identify themselves with the activities that are important to them. They think, "I am a scientist, or artist, or creative person, or athlete, etc." They know what they like, what they think, what they feel, what they want, etc. They feel like unique creatures with particular attributes and/or abilities. Other folks do not have a strong center. They do not know who they are because they haven't attached to a strong identity as X, Y, or Z. They're not sure what they feel or think about things, and they often watch other people in an effort to conform to however they think other people expect them to be. I recently met a guy who is both a strong feeler and also a strong thinker (he has a Phd in physics and is so smart that a branch of the military service hired him when he graduated from high school, paid for his advanced education, and today allows him to do whatever kind of pure research interests him with no strings attached. Pretty rare!) He told me that when he was a kid, he used to watch what other children were doing and how they were acting in order to figure out how he should act and what he should do. At a certain point he found a key that helped him discover, for himself, what he thought and felt about things. Using that key he was able to develop a way of knowing what he thought and felt without having to watch other people. I found that story amazing, and I recently wrote him to ask if he could explain the key that allowed him to know his own preferences. When he told me his story, it seemed utterly alien to me because I never cared what anyone else thought when I was a kid. I knew exactly who I was (which later turned out to be incorrect--ha ha), what I wanted, and what I was interested in, and I assumed that everyone else was just like me in this respect. FWIW, three people who have described their outlook in almost identical words to yours would rank high on the "feeler" end of the Meiers-Briggs feeling--thinking continuum, whereas I rank at the far end of the thinking end of the spectrum. It makes me wonder if this feeling/thinking orientation is a primary component of one's sense of selfhood or the lack thereof?
|
|
|
Post by nowhereman on Oct 10, 2013 17:13:17 GMT -5
OK ZD you can't leave it at that..what was the key that he used? Thanks Nowhereman
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 10, 2013 17:24:08 GMT -5
Maybe due to the fact that 99% of the world around them acts and believes in a separate self is the cause (for a no self ) confusion and angst. Yeah, she may believe that she's not a personal self, but she's weighed down by peoples thoughts and actions to the contrary...
|
|
|
Post by runstill on Oct 10, 2013 18:25:47 GMT -5
During this last weekend someone asked me, "Do you mean to say that in the past you felt as if you were an entity inside the body looking out at the world, and that that all changed on a particular day?" I said, "Yes, isn;t that you way you experience it? " He replied, "No, I have never felt like there was someone 'in here' looking 'out there. I have never known what I am or where I was located other than this body, and I have always looked to other people to help me figure out, from their reactions, what I should think or feel." After further conversation, I wondered how many people feel as I once did, and how many feel the way this fellow described? IOW, how many people look within, reflectively, and check on their mental states, ideas, feelings, etc, and feel as if they are "inside" looking at a world "outside?" and how many people do not locate their selfhood inside at all? In my case, the "inside/outside" duality ceased on a particular day, and that is what ended the search. I realized that I was not "someone in here" looking at "a world out there;" I was Reality/the universe/beingness looking at Itself. If someone does not identify as a person "in here," what is it that makes her feel like she is separate from the world around her? Any feedback? I would say I fell into that second category, ZD. I spent a long time trying to solidify that 'me' that everyone else seemed to be in possession of. It was all quite confusing. The separation I experienced was around that, i.e., not having a clue as to who I was. I can relate to Segal's self-reflective reflex creating a lot of distress. So in one sense, there was no solid me but in another sense there was a solid 'me that can't be identified' - if that makes any sense. That's what the reflex kept hitting. There's no you and since you don't exist nothing can be lost, what is 'me that can't be identified ' I would say everything....
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Oct 10, 2013 20:33:48 GMT -5
I would say I fell into that second category, ZD. I spent a long time trying to solidify that 'me' that everyone else seemed to be in possession of. It was all quite confusing. The separation I experienced was around that, i.e., not having a clue as to who I was. I can relate to Segal's self-reflective reflex creating a lot of distress. So in one sense, there was no solid me but in another sense there was a solid 'me that can't be identified' - if that makes any sense. That's what the reflex kept hitting. Quinn: That's what I'm interested in, and you describe your situation exactly as two or three others have described it. Some people--let's call them "people with a strong center"-- have a very strong sense of "me" at a very early age. It appears that these people (I include myself) identify themselves with the activities that are important to them. They think, "I am a scientist, or artist, or creative person, or athlete, etc." They know what they like, what they think, what they feel, what they want, etc. They feel like unique creatures with particular attributes and/or abilities. Other folks do not have a strong center. They do not know who they are because they haven't attached to a strong identity as X, Y, or Z. They're not sure what they feel or think about things, and they often watch other people in an effort to conform to however they think other people expect them to be. I recently met a guy who is both a strong feeler and also a strong thinker (he has a Phd in physics and is so smart that a branch of the military service hired him when he graduated from high school, paid for his advanced education, and today allows him to do whatever kind of pure research interests him with no strings attached. Pretty rare!) He told me that when he was a kid, he used to watch what other children were doing and how they were acting in order to figure out how he should act and what he should do. At a certain point he found a key that helped him discover, for himself, what he thought and felt about things. Using that key he was able to develop a way of knowing what he thought and felt without having to watch other people. I found that story amazing, and I recently wrote him to ask if he could explain the key that allowed him to know his own preferences. When he told me his story, it seemed utterly alien to me because I never cared what anyone else thought when I was a kid. I knew exactly who I was (which later turned out to be incorrect--ha ha), what I wanted, and what I was interested in, and I assumed that everyone else was just like me in this respect. FWIW, three people who have described their outlook in almost identical words to yours would rank high on the "feeler" end of the Meiers-Briggs feeling--thinking continuum, whereas I rank at the far end of the thinking end of the spectrum. It makes me wonder if this feeling/thinking orientation is a primary component of one's sense of selfhood or the lack thereof? Well, I don't know. If your friend ranked high on both feeling and thinking, that wouldn't fit. My Mom had the Meyers-Briggs book (I found it in her stuff after she passed) and I tried taking the test last summer. But I couldn't pin down the thinker/feeler part. The others came out quite clear, but not that. My profession is computers and my specialty has always been logic, so there's a lot of thinker there but the feeler side is strong too. The book suggested if you have trouble pin-pointing, it could be that you were born with one trait but were unable to express it in childhood so developed the other. So maybe there is a correlation, but it'd be hard to say definitively. All I can say is that once I realized that there really was no center (as you call it), it wasn't traumatic or earth-shattering at all. It was a relief! I had been trying to find something that wasn't there in the first place and I could finally STOP. Haha! Halleluiah! The young man you were talking about is Midnight. He was also on the forum I came here from. He was kind of a fun-loving irreverent guy at first, then went through this change and posted quite a bit about it over there. The disassociation (or whatever it is) had been going on for a while before he posted here. Life moves in many different ways, eh?
|
|
|
Post by runstill on Oct 10, 2013 21:33:17 GMT -5
Quinn: That's what I'm interested in, and you describe your situation exactly as two or three others have described it. Some people--let's call them "people with a strong center"-- have a very strong sense of "me" at a very early age. It appears that these people (I include myself) identify themselves with the activities that are important to them. They think, "I am a scientist, or artist, or creative person, or athlete, etc." They know what they like, what they think, what they feel, what they want, etc. They feel like unique creatures with particular attributes and/or abilities. Other folks do not have a strong center. They do not know who they are because they haven't attached to a strong identity as X, Y, or Z. They're not sure what they feel or think about things, and they often watch other people in an effort to conform to however they think other people expect them to be. I recently met a guy who is both a strong feeler and also a strong thinker (he has a Phd in physics and is so smart that a branch of the military service hired him when he graduated from high school, paid for his advanced education, and today allows him to do whatever kind of pure research interests him with no strings attached. Pretty rare!) He told me that when he was a kid, he used to watch what other children were doing and how they were acting in order to figure out how he should act and what he should do. At a certain point he found a key that helped him discover, for himself, what he thought and felt about things. Using that key he was able to develop a way of knowing what he thought and felt without having to watch other people. I found that story amazing, and I recently wrote him to ask if he could explain the key that allowed him to know his own preferences. When he told me his story, it seemed utterly alien to me because I never cared what anyone else thought when I was a kid. I knew exactly who I was (which later turned out to be incorrect--ha ha), what I wanted, and what I was interested in, and I assumed that everyone else was just like me in this respect.
FWIW, three people who have described their outlook in almost identical words to yours would rank high on the "feeler" end of the Meiers-Briggs feeling--thinking continuum, whereas I rank at the far end of the thinking end of the spectrum. It makes me wonder if this feeling/thinking orientation is a primary component of one's sense of selfhood or the lack thereof? Well, I don't know. If your friend ranked high on both feeling and thinking, that wouldn't fit. My Mom had the Meyers-Briggs book (I found it in her stuff after she passed) and I tried taking the test last summer. But I couldn't pin down the thinker/feeler part. The others came out quite clear, but not that. My profession is computers and my specialty has always been logic, so there's a lot of thinker there but the feeler side is strong too. The book suggested if you have trouble pin-pointing, it could be that you were born with one trait but were unable to express it in childhood so developed the other. So maybe there is a correlation, but it'd be hard to say definitively. All I can say is that once I realized that there really was no center (as you call it), it wasn't traumatic or earth-shattering at all. It was a relief! I had been trying to find something that wasn't there in the first place and I could finally STOP. Haha! Halleluiah! The young man you were talking about is Midnight. He was also on the forum I came here from. He was kind of a fun-loving irreverent guy at first, then went through this change and posted quite a bit about it over there. The disassociation (or whatever it is) had been going on for a while before he posted here. Life moves in many different ways, eh? Quin if your referring to the bolded as Midnight I would be surprised if that's the same person, though I could be wrong. I remember when Midnight was posting here And I think his loss of self was rather recent, I felt bad for what he was going through , I hope there was some resolution for him....
|
|
|
Post by zendancer on Oct 10, 2013 21:55:39 GMT -5
Quinn: Yes, it does. I was interested in what Klein told Segal because it indicated an approach that might help Midnight (couldn't remember his screen name). Doing the Mooji meditation seems to have triggered for him the same sort of identity loss that Segal experienced, and Klein's advice would probably be appropos--stop the habit of looking for what has disappeared, and stop telling a story that pathologizes what has happened. This would be asking him in a different way than usual to accept what has happened and move forward in a state of emptiness.
My wife's story is similar to your own. She had no center, and did all kinds of things to create one. Nothing worked. Then she read Segal's story, and realized that if she ever created a self, she'd have to eventually get rid of it. Ha ha. It was therefore a relief to give up that effort. She still wants to know who she is, but she isn't suffering under the illusion that she is a little person inside the body looking at a world outside the body. I guess the best advice to give someone in that situation is to stop the part of the mind that wants to know what it is, and just be what is.
What seems ironic to me is that some of us know that who we think we are is an illusion, but the illusion continues. The illusion for us is the dualistic thought structure of inside/outside. Other people don't know who they are, but want to know. I guess the illusion for them is the dualistic thought structure of personal/impersonal. Does that make sense?
I'm thinking out loud, so if anyone sees a better way to explain this, please jump in.
Nowhereman: I've written to the guy to ask him about the key. I can't remember what it was. I was so fascinated by his story that I didn't pay attention to the most important part of it. Ha ha.
|
|
|
Post by nowhereman on Oct 10, 2013 22:47:13 GMT -5
Quinn: Yes, it does. I was interested in what Klein told Segal because it indicated an approach that might help Midnight (couldn't remember his screen name). Doing the Mooji meditation seems to have triggered for him the same sort of identity loss that Segal experienced, and Klein's advice would probably be appropos--stop the habit of looking for what has disappeared, and stop telling a story that pathologizes what has happened. This would be asking him in a different way than usual to accept what has happened and move forward in a state of emptiness. My wife's story is similar to your own. She had no center, and did all kinds of things to create one. Nothing worked. Then she read Segal's story, and realized that if she ever created a self, she'd have to eventually get rid of it. Ha ha. It was therefore a relief to give up that effort. She still wants to know who she is, but she isn't suffering under the illusion that she is a little person inside the body looking at a world outside the body. I guess the best advice to give someone in that situation is to stop the part of the mind that wants to know what it is, and just be what is. What seems ironic to me is that some of us know that who we think we are is an illusion, but the illusion continues. The illusion for us is the dualistic thought structure of inside/outside. Other people don't know who they are, but want to know. I guess the illusion for them is the dualistic thought structure of personal/impersonal. Does that make sense? I'm thinking out loud, so if anyone sees a better way to explain this, please jump in. Nowhereman: I've written to the guy to ask him about the key. I can't remember what it was. I was so fascinated by his story that I didn't pay attention to the most important part of it. Ha ha. Yeah I got ya..as far as people go I think it's all the same it's the illusion of the unknowing as whatever is there or not there is the illusion itself if that makes sense after all we are just using words for locations that don't really exist it's just some people center themselves in different ways methinks
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Oct 11, 2013 7:36:53 GMT -5
Quin if your referring to the bolded as Midnight I would be surprised if that's the same person, though I could be wrong. I remember when Midnight was posting here And I think his loss of self was rather recent, I felt bad for what he was going through , I hope there was some resolution for him.... No, Runstill. The part in bold is someone different that ZD knows. Midnight was on the Tolle forum when this 'thing' happened to him. He came here after. I just looked it up and he joined here a few days before me but didn't post for about 4 months. I had been on that forum about 2 years and Midnight posted there a lot about his situation. He only seemed to want to hear from someone who had gone through the same thing. As I said, the loss of self for me was really just a loss of banging my head against a wall looking and it was a relief to stop. For him it was horrifying. I felt bad about it too, but couldn't offer him anything.
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Oct 11, 2013 7:51:58 GMT -5
What seems ironic to me is that some of us know that who we think we are is an illusion, but the illusion continues. The illusion for us is the dualistic thought structure of inside/outside. Other people don't know who they are, but want to know. I guess the illusion for them is the dualistic thought structure of personal/impersonal. Does that make sense? I'm thinking out loud, so if anyone sees a better way to explain this, please jump in. Yeah, no. It's not computing. Are you saying that the people who are born (or whatever) with a strong center, or a strong sense of me-ness, see that center as 'in here' as opposed to non-locatable? So the challenge for those is to give up ownership of that me-ness? As for those with no strong center, I don't know what you're saying. I guess I don't understand personal/ impersonal in relation to illusion.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 11, 2013 8:01:31 GMT -5
During this last weekend someone asked me, "Do you mean to say that in the past you felt as if you were an entity inside the body looking out at the world, and that that all changed on a particular day?" I said, "Yes, isn;t that you way you experience it? " He replied, "No, I have never felt like there was someone 'in here' looking 'out there. I have never known what I am or where I was located other than this body, and I have always looked to other people to help me figure out, from their reactions, what I should think or feel." After further conversation, I wondered how many people feel as I once did, and how many feel the way this fellow described? IOW, how many people look within, reflectively, and check on their mental states, ideas, feelings, etc, and feel as if they are "inside" looking at a world "outside?" and how many people do not locate their selfhood inside at all? In my case, the "inside/outside" duality ceased on a particular day, and that is what ended the search. I realized that I was not "someone in here" looking at "a world out there;" I was Reality/the universe/beingness looking at Itself. If someone does not identify as a person "in here," what is it that makes her feel like she is separate from the world around her? Any feedback? I would say I fell into that second category, ZD. I spent a long time trying to solidify that 'me' that everyone else seemed to be in possession of. It was all quite confusing. The separation I experienced was around that, i.e., not having a clue as to who I was. I can relate to Segal's self-reflective reflex creating a lot of distress. So in one sense, there was no solid me but in another sense there was a solid 'me that can't be identified' - if that makes any sense. That's what the reflex kept hitting. I'm not sure what ZD's different categories are but I do think there is something to it. It seems like if there is a solid sense of self it's easier to see and surpass or whatever. If it's a clueless mishmash there is less easily noticeable contrast with what is happening. I'd describe what my outlook is, from very early on, as utterly clueless. No idea of how to interact with people, no idea of what motivation should be or why people do what they do. I'd just watch people talk to each other and be totally amazed. When attention turned towards me, I just had no idea of what to say or do. This has continued to this day. On top of this was layered a story about my self, mostly from my Mother, that I was really really special in some way. This seemed to come in handy during times of great alienation, isolation, and loneliness because I could create all sorts of other iterations of the story to explain why I was feeling incredibly alone. But of course the special story was a sham and I knew it, though it took some time to admit it -- what a relief that was! Somewhere along the way, not surprisingly, I got interested in leaving the whole mess behind. This was the special story, transforming into a monk in Alaska in a cabin in the woods. It was a sort of distorted version of the Marlboro Man masculine identity. The thinking was that if I could just be happy by myself I'd be all set. Whooboy, that one almost did me in! At suicidal death's door I challenged myself to stay alive for a week. During that time I admitted that I needed relationships. The special story changed into be-a-monk-while-living-relationship with others. Buddhism, lots of it. And marriage and kids. The relationships shutdown the monk story. But of course I've been dabbling in this nondual thinking now, appreciating it's bada55ness in contrast to the gradualist compassionism of Buddhism. Yes the story continues. During the time of trying to figure out career focus (early 20's) I stumbled on Joseph Campbell's 'follow your bliss.' So then the next logical question was "what is my bliss?" I know lots of people stuck at exactly the same question. Eventually, there are bills to be paid and income is needed regardless of following bliss or not. One tries to make choices that will bring about a situation where one is focused on their interests, what gives you energy. From my observations, however, it is very rare that people are successful with this.
|
|