THE END OF SEEKING
The one who awakens is not the “me.”
What ends the search is realizing who/what we truly are, and yet the end of seeking simply begins the continued embodiment of what we have always been. When the moment comes that convinces us there simply is no separate “one” to enlighten, it is a profound realization to the seeking mind, but to the Heart that was never separate, nothing actually happened! Life has always been unfolding life, but now you know you ARE that life in its totality.
There is a danger in sharing an awakening story. Seekers may imagine this is how it will (or should) look for everyone. This is not true. The Infinite has many different ways to wake itself up within the experience of its human beingness. Remember, we are talking about the infinite potential of the Infinite. So, while I will share one story here, do not hold it as a template or prototype of what awakening will always look like. There is one constant, however, in an authentic awakening, and that is a shift in identity. Sometimes the shift is very quiet and does not come with any bells or whistles; sometimes it seems dramatic.
Prior to what I would call “the first awakening,” life had seemed to relax. I was no longer expecting that my efforts could bring about awakening. I had accepted I might live my entire life without ever knowing what it was like to live in awareness of God or Self continually. I accepted that there was nothing more I could do. This did not mean that there was no more desire, but somehow, it all just seemed less important as I felt more and more open to the moment I was living. I seemed to accept or to begin to see that all of us—the people I had judged as obnoxious, the ones I felt were beloved, the animals and birds in nature—were sharing the same sentience. God, Mystery, Consciousness was in them, too.
In the spring of 1997, years before I met Adyashanti, I went on a private retreat to the Vedanta Society Retreat Center, near the town of Olema on the Northern California coast. There, in the open fields, walking with the deer on the property and hiking up in the hills, I began to experience the life around me as my life. “I” seemed to be one with the butterflies, bees, trees, flowers, the other people. The only moment that existed seemed to be the one I was in; thoughts seemed to diminish, and there was simply being in the present, being silent in nature.
Still, when thoughts appeared to move attention out of the direct experience of the moment, I seemed to be waiting for something, imagining there was something to get or be given. One night, as I was meditating in the meditation room before the photographs of Ramakrishna, his wife, Sarada Devi, and his disciple, Vivekananda, the energy I had been experiencing rushing up my spine became quite intense. I felt I was plugged into an electrical socket, exploding and releasing energy in my head, throat, and heart.
SOMETHING IMPORTANT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN
Then a directive seemingly came from Ramakrishna that if I were to stay awake and meditate until 10 p.m., something important would happen. Well, of course, I was excited and curious and had no doubt that I could stay awake until 10. I was not a disciple of Ramakrishna and knew very little about his life, but, before my eyes, Ramakrishna appeared to come out of his photograph and began to transform into the Divine Mother Kali. The cloth thrown over his shoulder seemed to move to cover his head, and in this moment, he appeared as the Divine Mother, then alternately as himself.
Now, I had never particularly liked Kali, the destroyer goddess; those traditional fierce images of her were rather off-putting to my sensibilities. I wanted my mother sweet and innocent and loving me, not destroying anything. But the image of Ramakrishna told me in no uncertain terms to “surrender to the Mother.” Soon I was chanting to the Divine Mother despite myself, and the energy was intense. So here I was, swept up with all this energy, chanting to the Divine Mother, feeling my heart wide open, and certain something big would happen at 10 o’clock, maybe what I had been waiting for all these years. Of course I would stay awake!
But Ramakrishna, who seemed to manifest in form in my consciousness, came over to me and tapped me between the eyes, and I went unconscious. I do not know to this day what happened, whether I simply fell asleep and dreamed or was knocked unconscious, but the long and the short of it is, of course, that I was NOT awake at 10. When I did come back to consciousness, it was 10:15 or even later—I don’t remember. At first I felt angry at being set up that way, but then I began to laugh and laugh because I saw what had been in the way all along!
The ego, wanting something to happen in some moment other than now, was the problem. That ambitious one was not in charge of anything, never had been, never would be. I went to bed that night with a smile on my face, grateful for the gift of the evening’s meditation and humbly recognizing that “Dorothy” was not the one doing anything, that no matter what “I” intended, there was a greater power that was really in control of all my action or inaction. “I” could do nothing apart from that Divine will—not even keep myself awake.
AT THE TEMPLE SITE
The next morning I hiked up to a place called the temple site, a beautiful open circle of sweet grass in the midst of a grove of cedar and redwood trees. There I sat on a stump and gazed at the sky through the tops of the trees. On this occasion, I sensed God as an inner feminine teacher, and asked, “What is my lesson for the day?” The answer was, “Time and space.”
By a force over which I had no control, I sat motionless looking at the tops of these magnificent trees for some period of time. I have no idea how long I sat there, but my neck got sore, and still I could not stop gazing. I sat lost in timelessness, really. And in one sudden, unexpected flash of knowing, a veil seemed lifted between what I was looking upon—these trees—and who I was. I knew at once that now is the only time that exists and that the illusion of time and space had been created so that “I” could see my Self. This was no intellectual insight, and this “I” was no separate “I.” This “I” was the only thing there was or ever had been, manifesting as myself and every other self that ever lived, as these trees, this sky, this sun, this warm earth. There was a sense of waking up, of being born again into a world that was simultaneously totally the same and totally different from the one I had always known.
SHOCK AND JOY
There was a sudden shock at knowing the truth of being what I had been seeking for all these years. The power of this truth was so great, my body seemed knocked over by it, and I lay on the ground breathing my Self, seeing my Self, knowing my Self, and this Self had no separate existence whatsoever. I knew without a single doubt that there was no “one” to enlighten and never had been. What I had taken to be a separate “me” was in no way separate from its Source. The Source of all was separate from nothing. It was even the Source of the Consciousness that could think it was separate from itself, except now it could no longer think or experience itself (myself) as separate. There seemed to be only this moment and only what is unfolding as a seamless whole, and there simply was no separate “me” observing it.
The sheer happiness experienced in this moment of recognition was beyond description. Never had there been a taste of such profound joy and humility. There was joy in knowing I was what I had been seeking all along. There was humility in knowing the “one” I had taken to be the seeker—in charge of her life, responsible for her “spiritual” choices, serving, praying, meditating, willing to die for Truth—was not for a single moment whom she imagined herself to be, separate from what she had been seeking, serving, praying to, meditating on to experience, and willing to die for. It is the ego—the illusory part of ourselves so conditioned by our upbringing, our culture, and our fear—that imagines itself separate from God, yet this, too, is God’s manifestation. It is only in the absence of that sense of separation that Truth can be experienced.
There was such love and connectedness, love for the one who imagined herself separate all these years, love for the recognition of the Truth she had longed for, yet the clear and unequivocal knowing that there simply is not, nor has there ever been, any “one” to be enlightened. The concept had no meaning whatsoever for me. We are all awake Consciousness. A profound shift in perspective occurred, but the perspective was not “Dorothy” seeing her Divine Self; it was the Divine Self seeing itself, being itself always and everywhere. This Consciousness has no location and yet sees out of my eyes and the bee’s eyes—Consciousness alone IS. This world is reflected in who you are.
THERE IS ONLY THE INFINITE
In the Totality of functioning, some are led to seek a cure for cancer, some to milk cows, some to compose music, some to be warriors, some to struggle to improve themselves, some to seek spiritual understanding. Prayer, wherever it is found and whatever it is seeking, is a turning to the Infinite. But when the discovery is made that there is only the Infinite, life itself becomes a prayer. All seeing is a seeing of the Infinite. All tasting is a tasting of the Infinite. All listening is the listening of the Infinite. All forms are forms of the Infinite. And all lives are lives of the Infinite.
The day I was to leave the retreat, I was walking in a wooded area and suddenly was surrounded by a dozen or more enormous vultures, flapping all around my head. I was startled by the suddenness of their appearance, but I was not in the least frightened. My movements had apparently interrupted their dining on a dead deer lying at the foot of a tree. The eyes of the deer had already been eaten, and there was blood oozing from its partially consumed body. I gazed at the sight for quite awhile, a sight that earlier in my life would surely have repulsed me. Now, there was a deep knowing and a simple accepting that God was eating God.
On this last morning I visited a meadow alive with life itself—buzzing, humming, blowing, warming, chirping, hopping, dancing. I wept in gratitude for the ability to experience my Self in all things: the new growth of the pine trees, a slender blade of grass, the rainbow light around the sun, a deer grazing in the meadow, the song of a redwing blackbird. There was no questioning my experience. Doubt had vanished. Who can say how or why? “Shoulds” and “should nots” vanished along with doubt. There was no more wondering what or if or how. There was just the simple fact of life unfolding itself each moment. “Should I do such and such?” no longer appeared in consciousness. If I did, I did, and if I did not, I did not, and there was no separate “me” choosing.
PERFECTION IS NOT REQUIRED
Recognizing true nature did not require perfection of body or mind. It just required being quiet, being still, being open, being here. What I am is free to be myself as Dorothy and every other object in awareness. Awareness/Presence is one. These body-minds are objects in that awareness and are loved and accepted exactly as they are by what we truly are. To know this is to be free of your “self” and thus to be free to be your Self.
Feelings come and go, preferences exist, but the peace and happiness of the moment do not depend on preferences being fulfilled or certain feelings being present and not others. The conditioning of the body-mind is seen more and more clearly to be what it is. Biological fear (the organism’s instinct for physical survival in the face of physical danger) is present, but it no longer is felt to be identical to the fears we feel when our psychological “self,” or ego (self-image), is threatened.
We do not lose our values as human beings; indeed, they deepen in the face of our shared essence. But they no longer need to be upheld by “shoulds” or “should nots.” Rather, in knowing that the world and those in it are your very Self, we are not moved to harm, divide, or separate. And to the extent we allow ourselves to simply be and to be authentic, we give that freedom to others as well. Discrimination about wise action comes from a deeper dimension of Being. Life does not need to be different, and yet when we take a seat in our true Self, when we are moving more and more from our home ground, we do not become passive—rather, we become more clearly responsive. Freedom comes, not in life or a body-mind looking a certain way, but in not needing the moment or the body-mind to look or be different than it is.
I am the pattern of light on the wall right now; I am also the writing of these descriptions of the life that Consciousness has created and identified with, temporarily, as Dorothy Hunt. If I am sad when a friend is in pain, I am sad; I do not take it to mean I haven’t “arrived,” because there is no place to arrive. Whatever appears, including the conditioning of the body-mind based on its experience of living, means nothing about who I am essentially and truly. It is simply an occurrence.
FREEDOM FROM THE “ME”
Freedom is not found in renouncing desire; desire leads us to the next moment’s unfolding. When the body needs water, thirst appears; when the body needs to move, it exercises itself. When the mind wants stimulation, it reads a book. When the heart is full of love, it may want to hug a friend. Freedom is in realizing that your happiness has nothing to do with desires being fulfilled.
Likewise, freedom is not the end of feeling. We are Being being human. What a gift to experience the full range of human emotions. We do not have to rid ourselves of anything, even if we could. What seems to bind us are not feelings or desires but our idea that we are separate selves. Self-inquiry seeks to cut the root of difficulties, the idea of a separate self. It is not interested in developing yogic powers, or seeing past lives, or awakening kundalini, or balancing chakras, or becoming omniscient, or learning how to create states of consciousness, though these things may appear. It looks beyond all that to the understanding that truly ends suffering. And this understanding/realization is not of the mind. It bypasses the mind, though the mind is involved in attempting to describe it.
THE ABSENCE OF AMBITION
After the understanding appeared that seemed to end my seeking, the loss of drive and ambition was very surprising. For so long, my passion had been the so-called spiritual journey—the yearning, praying, meditating, spiritual reading, the intense desire to “get it.” There were moments of missing the passion of that search, and yet no “one” was missing it. There was incredible peace in everything that happened; drama, passion, intensity, longing were no longer present. There was no sense of depression about it, no sense of wanting or needing things or myself to be different.
I actually played solitaire quite frequently in the beginning, having so much more time now available without the efforting of the spiritual search; and in playing, a certain knowing appeared having to do with life itself being a game of solitaire. Possibilities unfold. Winning or losing is merely a production of mind that imagines a beginning and an end to the game. But in this divine lila, this game of infinite solitaire, beginnings and endings, winners and losers, births and deaths are simply illusions. In the manifestations of the Self, anything may appear that appears, and anything may disappear that disappears, but the real does not change. Life is a single unfolding. God/Consciousness/Mystery is playing all the parts. Life’s moments appear because of causes and conditions that go back to beginningless time. Life is a giant game of solitaire being played in the limitless Heart of Awareness.
PERSONALITY DOES NOT MEAN IDENTIFICATION
There are those who say or imply that awakening looks a certain way, and by that they mean an “awakened person” looks a certain way. It is not a “person” who “wakes up.” The understanding that I wish I could describe changes perspective; it does not necessarily change personality. Seekers are often confused because a spiritual teacher or guru may display moments of cultural conditioning or distinct personality traits. The body-mind carries conditioning, and its personality could be seen to be a unique flavor or perfume of one of life’s human expressions. Personality is not identical with egoic identification, though of course the two can intertwine. There is a commonly held belief that if identification with ego were gone, the personality would be gone. And certainly around some people there seems to be such an absence of “self” that the seeker can scarcely imagine this guru or that teacher needing to eat or go to the bathroom, or ever becoming tired.
The freedom you seek is not dependent upon becoming someone else. It is knowing that the essence of what you are is the Mystery you seek, without any need for you or the world to be different. Such acceptance is the starting place for the much more challenging aspect of awakening—embodying the Truth that has been realized. Embodiment, which we will explore in a later chapter, refers to how and to what extent we are actually living consciously from our true nature, the Heart of Awareness. This aspect of the spiritual journey requires continued devotion to Truth, ruthless honesty, and clear seeing. It is an invitation from our Self to see and experience life from our inherent wholeness and compassion rather than through the veils of the judging mind.
LIFE IS NOT AN IDEA
In some respects, life seems too simple to talk about. Things are just what they are. Everything else is an idea. When you see ideas clearly as what they are rather than as the truth about anything, you can discuss them or not, but the power of life is no longer imagined to reside in any idea, no matter how lofty. Everything I have written is an idea. I cannot communicate my direct experience of living, and neither can you. The minute words, thoughts, or ideas appear, direct experience ends and there is an attempt to communicate about it to yourself or to someone “else.” Yet all relating is to our Self; all speaking is to our Self. And in not imagining separation, there is simply being your Self.
AN AWAKENING EXPERIENCE IS NOT THE SAME AS LIVING AWAKE
Liang-shan, who would become the Forty-Second Patriarch of Zen, was once asked by his teacher, T’ung-an, “What is the business beneath the patch robe?” (Meaning: What is here beneath our clothing, our skin?) The priest had no answer.
His teacher said, “Studying the Way and still not reaching this realm is the most painful thing. [Now], you ask me.” So the priest asked, “What is the business beneath the patch robe?” His teacher replied, “Intimacy.” At this the priest was greatly awakened.1
Don’t you love these Zen stories? It is always a moment, isn’t it? A pebble hitting, seeing a peach blossom, hearing a turn of phrase. Initial awakening is only a moment, a moment in which there is such a revelation, such a remembrance, such a deep understanding that one’s whole identity shifts. But often the intimacy of such a moment can become merely a memory if we lose the freshness, spontaneity, and deep presence of Now. Regardless of any past experiences of awakening, are we awake in this moment? Are we intimate with this moment, this experience, this sensation? Or have we returned to our stories, our memories, and our habitual conditioning of mind, which separate subject and object, “self” and “other”?
With the end of seeking comes the much bigger challenge of expressing what we are in our human lives. This is where devotion to Truth continues to be strongly needed. But in the initial awakening, we may be so enamored with our realization that we think nothing more will ever be needed! Life will eventually show us otherwise, but at each stage, enjoy the moment that is here. There is great freedom when spiritual ambition comes to an end, even though truly nothing has ended.
What has become of the one who
searched and chanted, read and prayed,
and hoped for enlightenment?
She still laughs with her family,
sips champagne with friends,
and sings in the shower.
What is life when seeking ends?
Just what is, nothing more or less—
an ordinary person doing ordinary things,
not wishing to be more or less,
content to simply be herSelf.2