Quara Via :In the world but not of it-3
The need to establish an intimate loving relationship has its roots in the relationship you had with your mum in your infancy. When you were a baby, four or five months old, you lived in a state of “symbiotic union”. At that time your essence merged and melted in with your mum’s, or carer’s.
AT that time, there was no difference between “me” and “you”, just total, undifferentiated oneness with the world around you. When you feel the need for a loving relationship you are looking for something that will allow you to “melt”, so that there are no longer two separate individuals, but one Essence. In this inner mixing, a blend of gold, you feel healthy, protected; your body is sensitive to pleasure, your mind fades to the background.
Due to our childhood experience, we want to relive the same sensations as adults, with someone who loves us. That is why we look for the right person: because we’re seeking that original melting, merging sensation. This is a particular psychological state whose roots touch the archaic emotions of our Essence. Now the question that arises is: do we always need someone to stimulate this state, or can it come about autonomously, spontaneously, even when we are alone? “Only if he/she holds me in his/her arms, only if he/she loves me, can everything become wonderful.” This is the answer of most people. When we are in love, and we feel loved, we are open, willing, deep. For this reason some see this state of being as the aim of working on oneself. Gurdjieff called it Conscious Love.
It is a love that has little to do with a sense of belonging, with doing or not doing. It arises from the ability to reawaken the essential state of fusion even when we are alone, even when it is not requited. Often this state of “fusion” can take place outside of the relationship of a couple in the generally understood sense.
For example, some achieve it in their relationship with their child, or they can feel it when they are in a certain place, close to nature or enjoying wonderful scenery. In order to achieve this state, however, certain external conditions are always necessary, it cannot be done without them. But is it really so? I would like to read with you a Zen story.
The story of Master Hakuin:
Master Hakuin lived a pure life. A wonderful girl and her family had a restaurant near his home. Suddenly, without warning, her family found out that she was pregnant, and they became furious. At first the girl refused to say who the father was, but after much harrying from her parents, she said that it was Hakuin. In an uncontrollable rage they went to the Master’s house, but his only reply was, “Is that so?”
After the baby boy was born, they took him to Hakuin, saying that it would be shameful to keep him in their house. Hukuin replied, “Is that so?” His excellent reputation was lost for good, but nonetheless, he helped the child to grow, and developed a wonderful relationship with him. His old friends didn’t go to see him any more, and to those who told him of the criticism of the people, he replied, “Is that so?”
After a year the girl could no longer keep the secret, and she admitted to her parents that the child’s real father was actually the boy at the fishmonger’s on the corner. Her parents were deeply perturbed by this revelation, and they went back to Master Hakuin to apologise and ask to have the boy back. He gave him to them, and as he placed him in his mother’s arms he asked, “Is that so?” Is it possible to remain constantly the same, even when there are good reasons to despair?
For Hakuin there was no difference between one event and another. He was always the same. He knew who he was, he was centred. Is it possible to live in such a condition? Or is it just a fantasy? Can there really be people like that? Is there really someone who can play out everyday life, having established his Being on a higher plane? …
(CONTINUED) <>
AT that time, there was no difference between “me” and “you”, just total, undifferentiated oneness with the world around you. When you feel the need for a loving relationship you are looking for something that will allow you to “melt”, so that there are no longer two separate individuals, but one Essence. In this inner mixing, a blend of gold, you feel healthy, protected; your body is sensitive to pleasure, your mind fades to the background.
Due to our childhood experience, we want to relive the same sensations as adults, with someone who loves us. That is why we look for the right person: because we’re seeking that original melting, merging sensation. This is a particular psychological state whose roots touch the archaic emotions of our Essence. Now the question that arises is: do we always need someone to stimulate this state, or can it come about autonomously, spontaneously, even when we are alone? “Only if he/she holds me in his/her arms, only if he/she loves me, can everything become wonderful.” This is the answer of most people. When we are in love, and we feel loved, we are open, willing, deep. For this reason some see this state of being as the aim of working on oneself. Gurdjieff called it Conscious Love.
It is a love that has little to do with a sense of belonging, with doing or not doing. It arises from the ability to reawaken the essential state of fusion even when we are alone, even when it is not requited. Often this state of “fusion” can take place outside of the relationship of a couple in the generally understood sense.
For example, some achieve it in their relationship with their child, or they can feel it when they are in a certain place, close to nature or enjoying wonderful scenery. In order to achieve this state, however, certain external conditions are always necessary, it cannot be done without them. But is it really so? I would like to read with you a Zen story.
The story of Master Hakuin:
Master Hakuin lived a pure life. A wonderful girl and her family had a restaurant near his home. Suddenly, without warning, her family found out that she was pregnant, and they became furious. At first the girl refused to say who the father was, but after much harrying from her parents, she said that it was Hakuin. In an uncontrollable rage they went to the Master’s house, but his only reply was, “Is that so?”
After the baby boy was born, they took him to Hakuin, saying that it would be shameful to keep him in their house. Hukuin replied, “Is that so?” His excellent reputation was lost for good, but nonetheless, he helped the child to grow, and developed a wonderful relationship with him. His old friends didn’t go to see him any more, and to those who told him of the criticism of the people, he replied, “Is that so?”
After a year the girl could no longer keep the secret, and she admitted to her parents that the child’s real father was actually the boy at the fishmonger’s on the corner. Her parents were deeply perturbed by this revelation, and they went back to Master Hakuin to apologise and ask to have the boy back. He gave him to them, and as he placed him in his mother’s arms he asked, “Is that so?” Is it possible to remain constantly the same, even when there are good reasons to despair?
For Hakuin there was no difference between one event and another. He was always the same. He knew who he was, he was centred. Is it possible to live in such a condition? Or is it just a fantasy? Can there really be people like that? Is there really someone who can play out everyday life, having established his Being on a higher plane? …
(CONTINUED) <>
posted by Borrowed Wisdom at 11:55 PM
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