Chapter 8. The Reality of a Separate Self

The Reality of a Separate Self

I am once again hiking in the Pyrenees mountains, heading to the Rock de Sant Salvador. Twice before, I have gotten lost to a greater extent, and I hope to get through this journey without major problems. In Christian faith, Sant Salvador signifies salvation, liberation from worldly sins. I am curious to see what experiences this mountain, baptized as sacred, will bring this time.

My body is moved

This time, I am on the journey with my spouse, and after a little over three hours of hiking, we arrive at the foot of Sant Salvador. A picnic break feels well-deserved, and for a moment, we even doze off in the gentle warmth of the autumn sun. For variety, we choose a different route for the return journey. The terrain is rough, and after about an hour of trekking, we reach a steep rockslide where trail markers are noticeably absent. Nonetheless, we trust the map and press on.

We advance slowly and with difficulty. After another hour has passed, we are forced to face an unpleasant truth: Sant Salvador has once again shown its power and led us astray! Before us opens up an endless seeming flow of rock boulders, behind which lies dense forest. There is no other option but to turn around and retrace our steps. I feel a pang of anxiety in my stomach, and with concern, I consider how I will manage a few more hours in such rough terrain. But unexpectedly, the journey doesn't feel burdensome. It's as if I lose myself, and my body is moved instead of me moving it. There is just the activity of movement without an owner. After nine hours of hiking, just before sunset, we reach the starting point and our car that awaits us there.

Letting go of concepts

Upon arriving home, I am so exhausted that I can barely sit up. I close my eyes and sink into a state of non-doing. After resting for a while, my curiosity piques to delve into my experience of the body being moved. I explore the body through sensing, and I'm surprised to find that my experience of the body is not the same as the thoughts and mental images about it. The mind's task is to create concepts and images that serve everyday life, but if experience isn't filtered through them, all that remains are various sensations: I sense warmth and a flowing sensation. There's no sense of flow localized in the feet or a glow appearing on my face. There are only sensations appearing in the Here and Now. I am like a newborn baby without a past, and I'm surprised to find out that without labels like "my face" or "my legs", sensations have no identifiable boundary or location, and not even an owner.

The concept of my body

I continue exploring, letting go off names and concepts such as mind and my body. When the idea of subject and object drops away, boundaries disappear, and there is no longer a body sitting on a chair. All that remains is pure sensing and being aware of it. This experience opens the door to a remarkable insight: the body is not a solid, independent object but a collection of sensations and vibrations in the realm of consciousness!

I am left wondering how it is possible that as soon as my attention focuses on thoughts and perceptions and I label them, what is free and vibrant loses its vitality and a solid entity takes its place. Unconsciously, I adopt the identity of body-mind and behave like a movie character wandering along a dried-up riverbed, seeking a way back to the life-giving mainstream.

When the protective shell breaks

The body is an important tool, a mirror reflecting the mind. Sensations and physical symptoms of the body have stopped me time and time again. This happened once more when I returned to my French hometown after spending the summer in Finland. I had made a new friend with whom I went on a hiking trip. We had a lot in common, and as we shared life experiences, it became apparent that my friend's professional background was similar to that of my recently deceased mother. When my friend shared the difficulties, she had faced after her mother's death, it felt like an arrow had pierced through a protective cover I didn't even know existed. My walk suddenly became painful, my right leg refused to cooperate, making walking extremely cumbersome. And not just for that moment, but for months to come.

Only silence knows

Due to physical limitations, I had a lot of time for self-enquiry and to be still. I wasn't seeking for cause-and-effect relationships, but instead, I became sensitive to experiencing sensations. Allowing everything without exclusion or alteration, everything was welcome. The power of silence was like fire, burning the untrue and transforming it back into the Self. Silence, the light piercing through everything, also revealed the mental mechanism where unencountered or unquestioned thoughts were projected into the world and onto other people.

Sitting on the couch at home, I was able to watch the reel of the past and peek into the protected life of a little and kind girl. I saw a part of my personality that wanted to please and be kind. The girl preferred to withdraw into solitude and refrained from expressing thoughts and feelings because she couldn't predict how they would be received. She feared rejection and criticism. Her mother meant security, care, love, and connection to her, so the girl did everything to keep her mother from getting angry and to make her pleased and happy. The behavioral pattern learned in youth followed the girl into adulthood, and this conditioning prevented her from recognizing her own projections.

Now the mother is gone. There is no longer a mother to call or who waits for a call. Suddenly, I feel an unspoken longing, and it almost feels as if the gate of paradise have closed forever.

Kiss the toad!

I tended to my knee in every possible way, and one day I had an amazing realization: it seemed to me, that the physical symptoms were a result of that conditioned behavior that guided me to protect myself, defend myself, and deny experiences that didn't fit the image of reality made up by my mind. However, the denied and unencountered gets projected onto other people, resulting in a world of fear and the struggle to survive it.

I learned to be vigilant and present for that what is and thus became more sensitive to recognizing the moment when I was about to shift into spiritual bypassing. I became aware of the impulse that either directed me to deny the present experience or replace it with a mental concept of right and wrong. I realized that by obeying this impulse, direct experiencing is hindered, and then I always find myself missing something. However, if I resist obeying the impulse, past experiences do not block the free flow of energy off the body. And sure enough, my right knee gradually gave in, and to my great joy, I could walk again. Kiss the toad, and it will turn into a prince!"

When time stands still

It has been a while since the trip to San Salvador, but the memory of it comes back to me. I see the rockslide where my feet were constantly at risk of slipping. But in the midst of danger, fear disappears! When action is completely focused, there is only presence without a story and identification with its content. When the thought of 'self' ceases to exist even momentarily, space is created to see that the individual entity called 'I' is a projection of the mind, with no other reality basis than thoughts and images. Nothing is separate, and all that appears to be 'out there' is Here and Now, as the projection never leaves its source!

I feel the longing in my chest giving way, and in the depth of my heart, I know that I cannot leave anyone or be left, as everything is the Here and Now. I thank San Salvador. It literally became my savior!