My Own Experiments With Truth

Reading Gandhi’s autobiography, My Experiments with Truth, I was inspired to start my own experiments. Each of these experiments led to a greater understanding of both myself and the world around me. The main experiment being one in which I stopped all practice all together, catalyzed by an experience and play on my nature.
I was accosted a while back to take in a couch surfer, a man of whom I had little regard. Two of my coworkers approached me, one of which being the surfer, asking if he could stay at my place, as his residence had become hostile. Being that he and I had dealings in the past, resulting in negative feelings on my part, I felt that the best course of action was to let bygones be bygones and allow him to stay. The arrangement was only to be for a few weeks, which stretched into almost two months. He had given me some money, and his word that he would look after me while he was there.
As his energy and items took over my apartment, slowly I stopped my daily meditation and asana. My reasoning was that our lifestyles were too different, and due to the arrangement it would have been rude of me to place a matt down in the living room while he was asleep on the couch. Slowly, however, he pulled me deeper and deeper into his own ideas of who I was to be, and further and further of the divine presence that I wished to portray.
The story goes on, but it is less the story as the meaning and reactions to it that matter here. The lesson was one of great importance, after he left and as I clean up the apartment to get things back in order, there has been a greater spiritual high and appreciation for the teachings of my elders. It was while he lived with me that the worse parts of my ego emerged stronger than ever. Here, now, they are left with me picking up the pieces and trying to shed them away, yet again. As I go about this practice, others-many of which I have little to no contact with-have been calling me out on the small yet significant behaviors that lead to the larger issues of my ego. Many of which included scandal and pride, two issues of which I have been dealing with on a massive scale for quite some time now. Scandal at the point of outlandishness, and pride in the inability to accept any knowledge about myself.
The first mark on my charter came in a sequencing of marks from a rather wide arrange of people; starting with a drunk 19 year old friend of my neighbor’s whom until then I had only known threw reputation. While sitting on my back porch listing to this girl talk, she mistook a reaction of mine to a question and blasted me with accusations of sexism towards females. This seemed out of place to me at the time, so I chalked it up to her being drunk and misinterpretation.
A day or two later, however, a second person called me out, telling me that they would not get involved with me because “They chose to stay away from scandles”. This took me back a minuet. I was shocked, for I was sure this person was flirting with me, and I was in no situation where it was appropriate to react. I allowed myself to soak in the comment, and as I thought about it realized that I was in control of my own reaction, and interpretation. Part of me thought that it was a parallel to the Impressionists of the turn of the 20th century, the other was seriously concerned about the actions and behaviors that I have become accustom to.
Overall, I had decided that being a scandal was a combination of good and bad, I was too outlandish and passionate to not be a scandal-regardless of my social happenings. While at the same time there was a need to look deep into the way I went about my life style.
Just as I had made peace with the idea of being a scandal, there came another moment where I found the need to take a deeper look into myself. I had a friend over to my apartment, whom I had just met a night before. As we sat and chatted about different issues, he would take time to impart what he deemed as wisdom to me, and I would respond with, “I know”. Although it would appear that I was almost disregarding his knowledge, he took the phrase very gracefully.
Just the same, towards the conclusion of the evening he finally looked at me and very bluntly said, “you have too much pride and take things too serious.” I was stunned. Any person who has spent anytime with me can tell, I have no greater joy then being as goofy as a 4 year old. Serious? I thought, how can a four year old be too serious? I questioned him on the meaning of his statement, he responded by telling me that I could not take a joke and take myself as a person too seriously.
It dawned on me, all those times that people had told me I was far too serious, that was what they meant. It was not that I did not have fun, or let loose, or give into craziness of being four, it was that I was a perfectionist. I had always held high standards to myself and when one would say I reached them, would assume that I was then perfect.
The last time that I was made aware of these flaws, it was not a measure of fixing them and then magically all was better, but rather of just being aware of them. It was this awareness that was awoken that has given me the strength to correct the flaws of the past, and present. When seeing issues of these nature, the yogi will tell you, accept and be aware. It was threw these reawakening that I was aware that these flaws are never gone, but they are never permeant. Though at one point I thought I had put them to bed, the universe showed me that not only were they still a part of me, but that also this is a practice, and in being such requires constant attention and work.
As the days without this roommate grow, I have began to pick back up my practice, I have began to journal once more, and more importantly I have taken more of an intreats in what I feed my mind, and what I feed others verbally. My awareness grows, and as it does I constantly look for the expressions of my flaws so that I may root them out and discourage them all together. I found that on the path, through the Way, there is always a road back to where you started, you may fall, but you can always come back up.

About 8petallotus

Here are the thoughts that hit me after everything is done and quiet, capturing the few moments of enlightenment between the grind and giving it a place to inspire. A place for yoga and divine inspiration.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s