The best thing about me is that I truly know how full of shit I am.
Having spent last week in the company of so many therapists, I realized that the deepest danger is in believing your own bullshit. In other words, believing that you are somehow better and more enlightened than other people.
Of course, I often believe this. But, back to the first sentence, all the meditating has taught me just what a load of crap that belief ALWAYS is. And when you face that belief in people who invest in it, who live from it, well, it is definitely cringe-worthy. As in, “I can’t believe I act like that sometimes.”
The enlightenment of the cringe and identification can only resonate if you recognize that you probably act like that a whole lot more often than you realize in the present moment. Then you can descend/ascend (it’s not clear) to new levels of humility, making you much more bearable to live with.
Of course, this is me we’re talking about. And therapists. So I’m like, “Thank whatever/whoever I’m not as stupid as you a*(hol$#S.” I mean, give me a break. Do I really have to practice enlightenment with therapists?
It seems I do. Though since my partner and I have gone through 6 couples therapists since last September (okay, 3 of them we only saw for one-two sessions, and we only saw FUH for 3 sessions), with the Stork-man the hands-down favorite (we lost count of how many session with him, but it’s probably more than 15), I still have to be grateful to the grief counselor with her animal-patterned socks and keep myself from yelling at the new IFS therapist who dresses like an interpretative dancer and continually explains things to me that I ALREADY KNOW.
From the point-of-view of Hindu philosophy, I am obviously exploring my samskara truly, madly and deeply. (Samskara are life patterns, complexes, re-enactments of old issues that re-occur forever or at least until you reach enlightenment.) I would like to say, for the record, that I hate it when people don’t seem to recognize how smart I am (telling me things I already know) and when they limit what I want to explore.
I don’t know how to have humility about how smart I am. I’m really smart. Maybe I could practice thinking that intelligence is a gift I didn’t earn, awarded at birth through some accident of genetics.
Naw. I’m just really smart.
But not better than other people.
Oh, comparison. The truth is that therapists go around thinking that they’re better because the human condition is truly overwhelming and we really have no idea what we’re doing, though we keep telling ourselves that we do. Just getting up and facing how little we truly know is an act of courage. I’d much rather criticize the therapeutic profession than admit that I’m terrified I’m going to miss the boat entirely, off on some samskara or another. Smart–yes, but that can be just another way to create some super-intellectual bullshit that has no relevance to how to live a life well, in search of enlightenment, grounded in peace.
When I know how full of shit I really am, when I fully admit how little I know, there is only surrender, which is unconditional and exists as a possibility in every moment. In other words, I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t have to. I ground into the moment, and I trust in some source of Light or goodness that will open up a way I can’t see yet, and that it will be hard, wonderful, right.
That may just be another story, but it’s the one I’m going with for now. Because guess what? Samskara often falls away in the light of surrender. I don’t know why, but it truly does.