Day 48

"It's the insufficiency that's doing the search. It's the insufficiency that's striving for anything. But it's not the insufficiency that wakes up." - Adyashanti

I came face-to-face with that truth yesterday when I went to the coffee shop to write. I haven't been able to write consistently for the past month and so when I had a good two in a half hour session, I thought that would make me feel good, as in, "I've done enough." Low and behold, it did not feel like it. The more I wrote, the more I felt like I needed to keep writing. It felt like enough for a moment and then that sense of insufficiency came in and said, "What about all those times you did not write? And there are still a few hours left in the day, you can use them to continue writing and then you'll feel like you've done enough. And don't forget that you have to keep doing this every day from now on so that you don't fall behind again."

I didn't continue writing because something inside of me already knew that I was not going to get the feeling of "enoughness" through it. Instead, I listened to Peter Brown's sat-sang online.

Whatever it is we're striving for doesn't usually come from a place of fullness. Because when it does come from a place of fullness, we do whatever we do for sake of doing it, not the results we wish it will produce for us. And there's a qualitative difference between the two. It doesn't mean that we should stop doing whatever it is we do, but just become aware of where the motivation for doing it is coming from. For me, it has become difficult to keep up the climb when I know there's no destination to get to. If the climb is done for its own sake, then it is joyful and enough.

Whenever I feel myself running in place, I have to stop and center myself because there's nowhere to go.

The Practice

Morning meditation - 30 minutes
Hiking - 40 minutes
Peter Brown Sat-Sang online - 1 hour

Reflection

I'm realizing that people meditate to see whatever it is they're running from. It may be an old pain, insufficiency, the fear of the unknown, etcetera. I've been noticing all of that and more as I continue sitting and looking. Whenever I feel a pang of discomfort in my chest, my first, immediate reaction is to mask it. "No, I didn't just feel that. Let's see, what do I feel like eating?" Whenever I don't run away from it and sit with the pang, feeling it vibrating and churning, it's not as bad as my mind made it out to be. It usually just goes away by simply putting my attention on it.

Whatever it is that we don't want to feel is actually our ally.