Sunday Sermon

It's Possible

As I waited in bed for sleep to come, I thought of all the things I could do to fight my insomnia. I could go watch tv. I could surf the net. I could turn the light on and grab a book. I could put on my headphones and play guitar... and then I realized that my computer, my books, and my guitar were miles away. I was in Jim's bed, not my own. I'm house sitting, but the dark had made those two places the same to me. I considered that for a moment. Until that realization had hit me, I was unconciously certain that I was lying in my loft. Had I opened my eyes and looked up, I would have expected to see the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling. For just a moment I felt quite disconnnected, as I suddenly dropped back into myself. I quickly became aware of the breathing of Jim's dogs, and the many different little sounds that should have told me that I was not at home.

You're probably thinking, "So what, Linus? You forgot where you were. This is probably just another of the fun side effects from all the drugs you did back in the 80s."

Perhaps, but the sensation of suddenly being somewhere else was quite startling. In a very real sense, a part of me was at Flock Hall. To my way of thinking, it was the most important part of me - we could call it my conciousness. The thing that we call "I" was definitely not at Jim's. "I" was home in my own bed, while the sack of meat that others recognize as me was elsewhere.

One of the core messages of Buddhism is that personal identity is illusory. I've always had a hard time with that doctrine. To put it simply, I don't FEEL illusory. Many teachers will tell you that ego is the symptom of belief in this illusory self, and the closer you come to overcoming the illusion, the harder your ego fights to keep itself alive. When you question the doctrine of no self, you must ask, "Who is asking?" In seeking your ultimate ground you will find that there is none, no ultimate self that is "I".

While I was still pondering my divided self, this teaching came back to me. I realized that "I" am not my body nor my mind, and yet I am both, because I am atached to that illusion. I had a brief glimpse of the truth of the doctrine of no self - of course it's gone now, and the sack of meat is telling me to go have a snack, and the ego is pushing me to punctuate properly - but I did have a moment of clarity in which I saw the folly of belief in the self.

So it is possible. The doctrines of the Buddhas are not just for monks and arhats - ordinary people can see clearly, even if for just a moment. The interesting thing about it was that it came so camly. There was nothing special about it, no bright light, no tears of joy. Just a quiet feeling of, "Ah, that's what they meant."

It would make a much more convincing story if it had happened while I was on my cushions, meditating for hours, but this story will have to do.

Go in Peace.