What the fuck?! For a second I’m dumbstruck. Then, quick as lightning: savage, unbridled, primeval rage at this piece of shit who has desecrated the sanctity of the only ceremony keeping me remotely sane through this whole experience. How dare he?! In one hoggish act he has annihilated any chance of peace I might have had for the rest of the day.
So often I find I’m squirming in a state of denial of what I do feel, and seduced by the fantasy of what I’d really like to be feeling instead. This is true for both physical sensations, as well as emotional states. When my teacher shared this nugget of wisdom with me (what is often described as ‘being with what is’), I felt nailed to the wall by the realization that I spend most of my time trapped either in my denial or fantasy state; pretending that things aren’t the way they are.
It might seem counterproductive to remain absent of a ‘style’ of practice; after all, how else are you going to dig your well deep? But, paradoxically, the freedom from ‘style’ lends an incredible power to your practice, an adaptability that translates into a broader spectrum of understanding and much deeper grasp of the universal principles of nature. If we strip away all external adornments, all labels, all identification with a certain way of doing things, what are we left with?