First Satori of 46

What a nice birthday weekend. It was really the best one I've had in a long time. Thanks to everyone who came over and/or otherwise helped me celebrate. I feel very lucky to have so many kind and interesting friends.

The week leading up to Friday was kind of cranky in general, so birthday fun at the end was especially appreciated. I'd been feeling a little alienated and overwhelmed at work, plus wondering why I forced myself to invite people over when I generally hate parties and hadn't had time to properly prepare the house for guests.

But then, on the way to work Friday morning, I was hit with this spiritual insight out of the blue that made life seem a whole lot easier and more fun. The sun was shining on my face, the air was a little warmer than it had been recently, and out of nowhere the thought occurred to me: You are neither the inside nor the outside, but the window between the two.

Usually we think of ourselves as a soul inhabiting a body from the inside and having to deal with an outside world that limits the options of that soul but has only partial access to it. Avoiding the limits and allowing the access both take work. Plus, we know that it is morally correct to empathize with other souls, so we try to imagine ourselves as the world outside our body at the same time, which also requires a lot of will and energy. Mostly all this hard work makes us angry and resentful.

But if I'm only the window, I can suddenly drop all that. The inside and the outside will continue to do what they are designed to do, and all I have to worry about is keeping my particular window as clean as possible. This character I've created on the inside doesn't need my protection, and this world I've separated myself from doesn't need my judgment. All they really want is to see each other clearly, and that's my whole job in this life. What a huge load off if you can really feel that way, because clear perception and genuine self-expression are the most pleasant things you can do, once the striving is taken out of them.

So far, this existential stance has persisted into this week, I'm happy to report. We'll see how long it lasts before my author starts identifying too strongly with his characters again. But, for now, I'm just really enjoying the break.

Amber sent me this birthday poem tonight that happens to capture what I'm talking about poignantly and beautifully:

Soul
What am I doing inside this old man's body?

I feel like I'm the insides of a lobster,
All thought, and all digestion, and pornographic
Inquiry, and getting about, and bewilderment,
And fear, avoidance of trouble, belief in what,
God knows, vague memories of friends, and what
They said last night, and seeing, outside of myself,
From here inside myself, my waving claws
Inconsequential, wavering, and my feelers
Preternatural, trembling, with their amazing
Troubling sensitivity to threat;
And I'm aware of and embarrassed by my ways
Of getting around, and my protective shell.
Where is it that she I loved has gone to, as
This cold sea water's washing over my back?

- David Ferry