"If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him."
Lin Chi
There is a conversation happening in parts of the spiritual community around the shadow side of gurus and teachers and readings.
How and when is it helpful to be guided to what you have not yet realized on your own – how and when does the relationship between a teacher . . . or even teachings . . . and a seeker enable the light to go on inside the seeker; and how do you determine when the relationship might be a crutch? How does a seeker know when to cut the cord? Is there a role for the teacher in clipping the student’s wings?
Some of the conversation is questioning what might be going on in the seeker and what might be going on in the teacher or guru in terms of unconscious motivations.
We all certainly have heard or even experienced the more blatant abuses – power, financial, sexual – but I am looking at the more subtle ties of dependency between gurus/teachers/readings and seekers. For this exploration I am looking more into what that dependency is like for the seeker, leaving the conversation about the teacher’s role for another time.
I have a special place in my heart for this conversation. I was grateful to rely on spiritual teachings and a spiritual teacher in learning to trust the quiet voice of wisdom and spirit inside my heart; it felt necessary and ended up being profoundly fruitful; and I can attest to the joy . . . the sweetest of joys, of fully turning within, not needing to look outside for guidance or direction (nor, turning away when help is needed), instead, sinking into my own true nature and listening to the sound and guidance of my own beating heart.
How do we learn about ourselves? We see ourselves reflected in relationship. Whether it be nature, our fellow humans and critters or our very own depth . . it is in relationship to the perceived that we, when open and receptive, can discover who we are and who we are not. It is in relationship that we are invited to expand and grow and evolve, becoming more conscious of ourselves, the world we share, and love itself.
Have you ever gone on a favorite hike with a friend and been delighted to see something you have not seen before because you are now seeing your surroundings through his or her eyes?
The delight and wonder of being introduced to new vistas.
We are extraordinarily fortunate to have life reflect back to us the invisible spirit /life force that animates our beings . . . that enlivens all living things. After all, isn’t it possible to go through an entire lifetime and not have had anyone or anything point to the exquisite and unending depth within your very being? The wonder of hearing that love and compassion, silence and spaciousness is what you are. What is it like to pick up Rumi as he implores you to look within? We can taste and sense the silence, the presence stirring deep within us, perhaps for the very first time, by listening to Adyashanti. Or have him ask piercing questions: “Is my life an expression of the deepest thing I know to be true?”
When we truly listen, we can fall into silence reflected to us by the redwood trees as we walk in the forest. Or the freshly fallen snow on a winter day, or a walk in the deep snow in the woods. When we are breath-taken by beauty, we are tasting the grace of pure harmony.
Life is speaking, reaching out all the time . . . reflecting ourselves back to ourselves when we truly listen. Love is healing, through reflecting, always, the innate goodness of all beings.
We are all born dependent, not able to care for ourselves, relying on others to keep us alive. We needed others to show us, tell us, care us into self-awareness, letting us know (or failing in some cases) we exist and we belong. We are educated to be a person, to think of ourselves as worthy if we amount to someone deemed valuable and to succeed, reach the top of some mythical mountain. We are taught to depend on others to tell us what to think; not how to think, and so we look to leaders. We are taught to think of ourselves as separate from others and needing to make our way in the world of competition and comparison.
If and when we have experienced trauma, there will be another layer of dependency to contend with. We can be left with a profound experience of relative emptiness, leaving us looking for someone or something to fill us, no matter the cost to us. Looking to someone to make sense of the inner chaos and fragmentation we might be living with.
Collectively, we formed tribes to have safety and comfort in numbers – relied on each other for where danger lay. We attach ourselves to a group or an ideology, a particular country or religion or spirituality, safe havens to convince ourselves we are safe as long as we belong with others who see the world in the same way.
We are a woven tapestry of everything we have learned throughout our lives.
I don’t think we can overestimate the power of this conditioning.
From this conditioning, we will often do anything in order to belong! In the relative world it makes sense, doesn’t it, given we live in a realm that operates, fully and completely, from a belief that we are on our own, separate and disconnected from each other, separate from nature, removed from our deep essence and out of touch with the spirit that pervades every molecule and cell of existence.
Within that sense of aloneness (to whatever degree we are conscious of feeling alone) doesn’t it seem imperative . . . even necessary from a survival point of view, that we belong to someone, to something? That we have a place, a tribe, a family, a partner, our own woods or flag or belief system to hold onto. The feeling of belonging is powerful, giving us a sense of connectedness and in many ways a false sense of security and safety. We can kid ourselves that no harm will come to us or we can hide behind others who know more and will take care of whatever needs to be taken care of. Defining ourselves in this way (including the labels of our careers, achievements and affiliation) gives us that sense of belonging and boosts our egos. We feel we are not alone when we are part of something bigger than ourselves.
Or we can kid ourselves by defending against this vulnerability and stake a claim of preferring to be on our own, hiding behind a wall of “self-reliant protection”.
Perhaps the fundamental reason we seek belonging with all our might is the intuitive knowing we all carry that we are at one with everything and everyone, and yet we believe ourselves to be alone. Trying to grok this contradiction, we go grasping around in the dark looking in all the wrong places for the realization of knowing, viscerally knowing . . . “I” belong. I belong everywhere. I belong all the time. I belong to everything. I am All.
It could be said it is a gigantic evolutionary leap to seek and follow guidance within our very own hearts, to become adults, in every sense of that word, and to know, really know, the connectedness of everything and everyone. It could be said it is a gigantic evolutionary leap to let go of our fears of not belonging in the relative world, trusting we are whole and can stand on our own two feet, in all our glory.
We are drawn to this state of being, as we are drawn to self-realization, sensing the profound freedom and liberation it implies.
And yet, I suspect we intuitively recognize the enormity of standing on our own two feet . . . the shock of being adrift in the ocean without a lifeline or getting used to uncertainty as a constant companion, walking in the woods without a map.
But here is the plain and simple truth – each and every one of us is alone in the world. It takes great courage and devotion to meet the truth of our aloneness. After all, most of worldly activity is subconsciously designed to drown out the deep yearning . . . the roar within us for what is most deeply real – the distraction and clammer of society seducing us into a false sense of belonging. No wonder we often come away feeling empty-handed or weary or confused.
When we face our aloneness, bravely turn away from the collective mind or the perceived safety of someone else’s wisdom, something within begins to open. And deepen. Over and over again, as we unpeel or discard layer after layer of guardedness, as we blow away the stickiness of cobwebs; a natural spacious opening breathes life throughout our hearts. Opening into a sense of true belonging, into the cadence of our very own heartbeat. Opening into our truest selves, our true Self within our very own lives.
Paradoxically, resting and abiding in the home of our own hearts, doors and windows begin to open to the world . . . to everyone and everything; unexpectedly (from the mind’s point of view) resting within ourselves isn’t narcissistic or myopic. When we are no longer running away from our aloneness, connections, all connections become more real, more creative, open hearted, juicier and more and more authentic. In fact, self-absorption slowly fades away as the innocent heart opens and widens. It turns out to be what we have longed for all along. The blessings are not found in other people, gurus or teachers. The blessings are not found in other places. These gifts are at home in the warmth of our heart, in the light of our infinitely deepening being.
The most profound relationships (teachers, gurus, partners, friends and life itself) lead us here, pointing to the preciousness of solitude, a homecoming to our own deepest belonging. You know this and a true teacher knows this.
“If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s.”
Carl Jung
there comes a time
when you have to let go
all the words
all the teaching
and trust the infinite
Billy Doyle