It’s Friday afternoon, and my partner is encouraged to give me feedback on my way of being and acting over the past week. Above all, she emphasizes that I’m like “absent.” Absorbed in my worries, too busy with my phone, not here and now. She rightly resents this. I receive it with discomfort but at the same time with openness, sticking to the facts: she’s right.
It’s Saturday, and since the day before, I’ve tried to abandon my worries and be here, with attentiveness. We hike through the forest until we reach a waterfall at the far end. We’re alone. After a period of relaxation, a moment of pure awareness occurs. I marvel at the stillness of the rock while the majestic curtain of water falls steadily. I mention this to her, and she makes a humorous comment that makes us laugh for a while. "Yes, it’s very still, but the water is also damaging it slowly.” We called her thought the “anti-zen” thought of doom. All this reminds me that perfection comes with a high dose of humor.
It’s Sunday and we’re at the cinema. We went to see the new “Dracula.” Two-thirds of the way through the film, I realize I’m feeling fear. But it has nothing to do with the film. Upon closer inspection, I realize it’s almost a panic attack. I think that if this feeling increases, I’ll either vomit, or run, or throw myself on the floor. But as best I can, I keep my hands in my pockets. I observe. Thoughts come and go, all of them doubts, fears, regarding actual freedom. What if this is just another manipulation? What if it’s an algorithm to program humans to no longer question anything and conform to the current regime? What if I become an inert robot by taking that step? What if @Vineeto is actually an agent of the Matrix? (that film had a deep impact on me in my youth), etc.
I clearly realize that these thoughts arise from an emotional reaction to the realization that my defense mechanisms cause suffering and aren’t truly necessary (saturday’s EE/PCE realization). And I can clearly see that they are a core part of my identity, but that eliminating them means eliminating all of me; just one part can’t go.
This insight increases my fear, almost to the point of terror. “My feelings are me, and I am my feelings”; “becoming my own best friend in this, isn’t something imposed on me, it’s something I choose for myself”; “This is for the good of humanity, it’s for its good, and for all the others I affect with my interactions, my absences”; “what is known is uncertain, uncertainty is the necessary step toward finding a solution”; “stick to the facts. What do the facts say? Don’t my interactions, my decisions, my will to fully be here improve when I really enjoy and appreciate this moment of being alive?” This last thought is the one that has the greatest impact on overcoming fear (because is not only a thought, is a connection with pure intent). I begin to experience a reduction of fear, recognizing that through facts, and not through my beliefs or daydreams, there is a clear and evident truth (paraphrasing René Descartes). The concrete experience of what is truly beneficial is the guide on this wide and wonderful path. Little by little, terror is replaced by the sweetness of this realization, which also awakens memories of my life in which I have always been searching for the final solution to my suffering.
At this point, the film’s plot (spoiler alert) connects with the emotional thread of my feelings and thoughts, and the acceptance of the main character’s death as an altruistic decision that frees others from his own burden makes even more sense. I’m amazed by this synchronicity.
The film ends. I’m not in a PCE, but in a kind of IE/EE, experiencing a lot of sweetness and intimacy. And I tell my partner what happened. Tears run. And I’m incredibly grateful with her for having the courage to tell me what she’d been noticing these past few days about my way of withdrawing from being here, as a defense mechanism. And that reminded me that what is the most important for me is to truly give all of myself to her, and to the rest of living human bodies.
I see what happened as a positive sign of progress, a kind of preparation for facing/understanding that wall of fear behind which freedom could lie. At least a virtual one.