Original Face, Ultimate Reality

This article appeared here previously, on February 15, 2009

The Philosopher Soren Kierkegaard wrote: "...that with such passionate clearness a man sees and knows over what he is in despair, but about what it is, escapes his notice..."

Kierkegaard further wrote on this topic: "For the "immediate" man does not recognize his self, he recognizes himself only by his dress, he recognizes that he has a self only by externals... In possibility, everything is possible, thus a man can go astray in all possible ways. One form is wishful... the other form is melancholy fantastic--on one hand hope, on the other fear or dread... In order to will in despair, to be oneself, there must be consciousness of the infinite self."

The self who one might think of as the 'original face,' the face that existed before you were born. Yet we are all blind by definition. We may see the other clearly, but not ourselves. As Ezra Bayda writes in At Home in the Muddy Waters, 'to the extent that we're not aware...we're bound to follow this predictable path. When two people who don't know themselves reach the point of conflict, the result is a collision... even though it may be easy to see how unaware the other person is, our own blind spots are blind by definition.

Yet these [persistent] conflicts are clues that we're in the dark... believing in our reaction is another tell tale sign of darkness to self. Many power struggles have resulted from a perceived notion of a failing, or loss of a good or promise to us. We then act to recoup what must be ours, partitioned, from our now enemy. But in the exchange, we are mired in both our hopes and our fears; we despair to will to be ourselves, the face that exists now and infinitely.

Failure to work with, and work out our perceived 'need for power, our self centered desires to possess, our fear based need to control results in hatred, intolerance and aggression. The blindness to self first, and towards the other second, is the source of all conflicts...without inner understanding, individuals and societies flounder,' writes Bayda.

Part of the simple mind, joy in relationships, comes not so much from getting what we think we need or from happiness, but from contact with our essential self, our infinite or original self. The expression of this connection is through generosity, a sharing of that self infinite. It is like a well, we drink of its unending source all that is essential.
 

Real Lifework

"I was not happy. I hated what I was doing." Being Zen by Ezra Bayada

Many times, many of us engage ourselves and our time in occupations and jobs that while we may be successful and we may be quite competent with the tasks required, there is the nagging thought or a feeling that this just isn't for us, it isn't the right thing to be pursuing.

Ezra Bayada writes in his book, Being Zen, that "I was not happy. I hated [my work] what I was doing and anguished for more than a year over finding my "life work... A fellow practitioner suggested that every time anxiety arose over what kind of work would be right for me, I refrain from thinking about it and instead attempt to feel the physical reality of my life at that moment."

Bayada writes that as a young person and a person new to the practice, he initially didn't make a whole lot of sense out of the advice. It didn't jive with any of his previous experiences. Still he followed the direction, to stop, listen, look and feel "the moment," any moment in his daily existence and learn a new way to experience himself in his own skin. He says, "I didn't get any insights into what work to pursue, [but] I sensed something genuine about the quality of awareness that was apparent when I put thinking aside and focused on the "Whatness" of the moment... out of the blue, I realized my path..."

By continuing this way he writes that he also came to realize that by following his realization to become a carpenter, he would have to address many of his fears and self-beliefs that he knew held him back from having "a clear understanding of who we are and what our life is." He also observes that the tendency to live our lives through our minds' intellect, through ruminating, thinking, weighing and measuring, is really about the very natural desire to have solid ground beneath our feet. But isn't the ground already solid? What more do we need to add to it? Is it ground or is it me, who is the change?
Our personal feeling of "groundlessness" that often accompanies change is also natural. It can be frightening to let go and fall, trusting that the "ground" below will allow us to land on our feet. And yet it is the willingness to experience the sense of change, of temporary groundlessness that brings insight; it brings clarity.

Bayada offers a practice suggestion for those coping with the feelings of groundlessness related to change. He asks us to ask our self the question, "What do I have to offer[here]?" He asks us to ask this question often and to find what the answers are. We may be surprised. And we may realize more of our self.