No Exit

When we are left with no exit and must sit with ourselves, as in meditation, I think in these moments we are most aware of the serpent inside of us, hissing and writhing.

It seems as though I am continually escaping my inner self by running unnecessary errands, buying this or that, or going out in public just because I am insecure with being alone. It is not necessary for me to prey on the external world, the world of human relations, the world of consumer products and entertainments. When I stay home and stay within my realm just for one day, and there is no exit, no possibility to escape myself, then I begin to develop a relationship to this serpent of body-consciousness that twists and wriggles and writhes and will do anything in its power to avoid feeling what is present.

My surging moods and emotional currents are always present, though I refuse to yield to them: I refuse to get in touch with the displeasure and discomfort that marks my existence. Instead, I exit my being countless times during the day.

By taming the serpent of body-consciousness, I shape the small spaces inside of me, one by one, the compartments of desire, hope, aversion, fear, excitement, nervousness, love, compassion, etc., and gradually I master the inner architecture of my being.

The serpent is also the source of profound autonomy. When I have conquered the serpent, I have conquered my most intractable “self”. No longer can I blame others for my riot of emotions. And it also becomes clear that most of my frustrations are the direct result of having expectations on other people.

While there is no doubt that the body craves the warmth and activity of other bodies, we can be trained to be alone. When I resist the urge to leave my house as I did yesterday, I find that my art and my thoughts draw a concentrated energy that is not attainable when I am “out in the world”. Only in deep solitudes does the fruit begin to emerge, quietly burgeoning and flowering out of the soil of our deepest silence.

11/20/2006

CRA