Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Seek and you shall . . . . seek?

I live in Byron Bay, the California of Australia. replete with sunshine, great surf, fabulous weather, high unemployment and every imaginable type of therapist, healer, workshop and spiritual pursuit. A veritable 'seekers' paradise. Let me define what I mean by a seeker. Seekers are a subculture of privileged western society who are in search of spiritual attainment. The stated goal of a seeker is this indefinable thing thing called enlightenment. Why indefinable? Because if you can't define it, you can't know when you've attained it.

Seekers congregate in places like Byron Bay, Los Angeles and Goa because the lifestyle is excellent and no one expects you to have a job. If one is going to be seeking, it might as well be somewhere comfortable and enjoyable. Seekers drink coffee or green tea in little street side cafes where they meet with other seekers. Seekers have tried every sort of spiritual practice, sat with every guru, done dozens of workshops, seen every sort of therapist, and try to make a little extra cash to supplement the welfare cheque by offering their services as whatever sort of healer they can claim to be.Seekers do yoga, have numerous short term relationships, experiment with Tantric sex, despise religion, protest against capitalism and governments, talk about how they would have an electric car if they could afford one and tell you their big dreams of living sustainable lives.

I used to be a seeker. Hell, why not? It sure beat working for a living, the women have great bodies (all that yoga) and 'progressive' attitudes towards sex, and as long as you talk endlessly about saving the world from those dirty capitalist dogs no one expects you to actually make some sort of contribution or assume any sort of responsibility. It's a cruisy life, a sort of spiritual hedonism with the added benefit of getting to think you're one of the 'special ones'. Homo superior just waiting for the rest of the world to catch up with your spiritual development and recognise your trailblazing wisdom.

The problem is that I did, quite by accident, the one thing that a seeker is never allowed to do. I found. "Wait a minute" I hear you say, Isn't that the goal of every seeker? Well actually, NO. The goal of a seeker is to seek. Ceaseless, vigorous, determined seeking. If you actually find what you are apparently seeking you lose all the benefits of being a seeker. No more spiritual ego trips and delusions of superiority. No more free ride at the expense of those 'normals' you so deftly deride. No more excuses for transient relationships that you really can't commit to because they might interfere with your 'spiritual progression'. No more grandiose delusions of saving the world to compensate for your almost total lack of usefulness and contribution.

The problem with actually 'finding' is in what you 'find'. Finding is not an achievement or a triumph. Not an elevation to sainthood or eternal freedom from pain and suffering. Not a free ride to wealth, sex and power. Not the attainment of magical powers and mystical wisdom. Finding is the simple realisation that you are just like everyone else. Just as divine, glorious and amazing as everyone else. Just as deluded, selfish, violent and flawed as everyone else. Just as capable of love and of evil. Just as frightened, just as deceitful, just as noble, just as responsible for the state of things, just as small and powerless, just as creative and resourceful, just as dependent on the good will of others, just as capable of kindness.

Finding does bring freedom, but it brings tremendous responsibility too. The freedom it brings is freedom from the need to be special, to be different, to be perfect, to be superior, to be extraordinary. The responsibility it brings is to play you part in the great game of creation, to contribute, to love, to ease the burden of others, to look after yourself, to cry for your suffering and the pain of your brother, to make the world a better place because of your presence in it.

Seeking is easy. It's merely the act of an immature ego inflating itself with dreams of separation, specialness and the easy way out. Finding is hard. Its the surrender of a mature ego to the realities of life and the responsibilities of love. So how do you 'find'? Simple - you stop seeking. You recognise that your seeking is a trick you are playing on yourself. Nothing more than a fantasy you use to distract yourself from what is right in front of you - life. A Course in Miracles calls seeking 'delaying tactics'. Trying to put off the moment in which the ego must surrender it'a attempt to 'rule' the kingdom and take up its alloted service role.

That which is real has never been hidden, never been lost, never been obscured from our view. It is simple reality. Sometimes joyful and exciting, sometimes hard and daunting.So why, you may ask, should we stop seeking and simply 'find' what has always been in front of us? Because it is the only way that peace and happiness can ever be ours. Heaven is not the absence of pain, difficulty and effort. It is the willingness, the bravery, to respond to them with love. It is the adventure of life, faced with simple courage, and the supporting hand of grace. But grace can only help those who are prepared to give up the isolation of egotism and specialness, and rejoin the ranks of our shared humanity. Grace is only present in that which is real.

The Invitation - stop seeking, FIND.

Together we rise.

1 comment:

  1. ;)
    'People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls. They will practice indian yoga in all it's exercises, observe a strict regimen of diet, learn theosophy by heart, or mechanically repeat mystic texts the literature of the whole world - all because they cannot get on with themselves and have not the slightest faith that anything useful could ever come out of their own souls.'
    Carl Jung in 'Psychology and Alchemy'
    He says it so well I'll let him speak for me.

    ReplyDelete

Let me know what you think, tell me your stories.