For many years I consciously worked at becoming more conscious of how the words I spoke effected my innards, how resonance or dissonance could be felt through the whole physical instrument. I learned to use those sensations as a guide for authenticity. It became impossible to lie or gossip without perceiving instant negative feedback. "Can you say what you mean, and mean what you say, without being mean?" This question helped me remember that I had a choice in how to verbalize anything: a request, a statement of opinion, a suggestion. I learned that when there was any attempt to manipulate or force anyone else to be or do or think a certain way, I would feel an uncomfortable pressure within myself. If I accused anyone else of any wrong doing, I would feel it within my own gut as a nagging guilt. Now this makes sense as I experience a continuum from this seemingly individual self with the rest of all that is; it's not separate, it's all one being. Whatever we do, we do onto ourself.
Having a personal agenda is considered normal, in fact we are taught to refine our agenda-setting skills. I have healthily implemented agendas as a teacher who needed to cover specific curriculum goals. I have also carried out other people's agendas professionally, such as following directions carefully and repeating functions predictably while cleaning rooms at an inn. So I'm not saying that having agendas or following them is "wrong". Agendas, procedures, protocols, can make sense in a practical way.
What is taken for granted, though, is that agenda-setting behavior is predicated on the assumption of the reality of the future, this idea of tomorrow and next month being something that are real. When we say "I wish...." or "I hope....." we are speaking from this platform: as if there is some time that will come later, and that we, from a particular perspective that senses itself as a self, would find it nice if [ ], or better if [ ]. This is such a normal part of daily life that it may seem very strange to consider that this is not a fundamental reality. What if one's sense of reality shifts so that the idea of having a future is seen as only an idea, occurring in this present moment?
Sometimes the sense of being a self–who could want something or hope for something– recedes or falls away. At some point the idea that "tomorrow" is actually "coming" will suddenly be seen as just another thought, rather than a reality. It's not that when we see this we will stop and sit in suspended animation for eternity. We may still find ourselves booking flights and Googling hotels and calling our family to announce our plans. All of these things may take place, (in the present moment when they are taking place.)
As the sense of self that I thought was real has seemed to dissolved more, to say "I hope" and "I wish" seem like playing a game. These words no longer feel "true" when they resonate in my body. If I ever take them seriously, as if they were true, then I'm also taking seriously that I am fundamentally this small separate person, and that feels heavy and pinched. In this context, wanting and wishing feel painful, revealed to be based in the belief in the imperfection of this moment. And so there is a tendency to release that serious perspective and relax into the awake awareness that is simply present with all as it is, on the edge of the unknown. I no longer expect that the trip that was planned will happen, nor that the flight will run "on time."
The idea that something is possibly going to happen in some possible future does not evoke excitement, either. My parents are moving to the island where I live next week. (Supposedly. It was going to happen earlier, but that didn't happen.) "You must be so excited!" a friend says. Nope, actually, I'm not. We'll see, when and if it happens. Who knows what that will be like? Excitement is not a flavor that runs through my body much. In fact, I can't recall feeling excited for a long time. (I pretend to, when it is the loving gesture to do. I play along with language just as you would thank a child for the empty doll cup of "tea" and pretend to drink it with a smile on your face.) Sometimes pretending can be the most authentic gesture of love. I still say to a friend, "I hope you feel better" (She either will or not, it will be what it will be.)
The other side of the absence of excitement is that there is almost no disappointment. Maybe a twinge, now and then, but this is usually sensing that there is disappointment being felt by someone around me, which I'm picking up on. When I come back to center and awareness rests in the present there is very little emotion in this body. When this started happening it felt bland, unexciting. Now it just feels normal. An interesting side effect is that, as a largely neutral awareness, it is easy to pick up on all manner of feelings, they just don't seem to be happening to me. Or, to put it another way that seems equally true, that part of my larger Self that Is that excited person Is excited, and that part of Me which is Emily is not.
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