No meditator

No meditation

No stages

No states

No attainment

Nothing to attain

No God

No Buddha

No practice

No Path

This sounds very much like my experience in 2012. Obviously people have this experience at different times, but when it really permeated for me it was paired with, or was a fall out of, what some people call the insight into anatta, which is the experience of everything’s being exactly where it is, with no receiver hanging off. This is very different from seeing

merely

the emptiness of self, but is seeing

even

the not-empty self as enlightenment itself. I wonder if that makes more sense now. If it feels a little or a lot like dying, then we shared the same experience. I think all of this is much more in line with my own perspective currently. 

Dear all,

This retreat has been life-changing. In fact, I guess I am glad it is ending tomorrow at noon, because I am not sure how much more intensity my mind, heart, neck, and back could stand! 

It is no doubt going to take me some time to sort, make sense of, and integrate what has happened here. How blessed I am to have sat with and received transmission from this instructor. His closing meditation today felt literally like it was blasting through my chest and head–like gale-force bright light was riffling through my very cellular structure (which is empty). I’m a total believer in this transmission business: *GULP.* I’ve never felt anything this powerful emanate from, or through, another person before.

Because of the new practices I’ve done on this retreat, I have distinctive changes in perception, realizations, including as of today the dropping out of the central processor (subject) while, nondually, particularities of relative reality arise within awareness, within and as the expression of the ultimate. The objects, so far, are no longer creating a subject. Holding the view of awakened awareness is automatic–is holding itself. 

Of course, these realizations can and usually do slip away. I think tomorrow we are talking about “protecting the realizations.” I will do everything I can to protect these. This central processor dropped out during our morning sit in a blast-like fruition reminiscent of my August path fruition–wherein, for a moment, awareness was radically decentered, and then I was layered back in as relative reality came back online. I was taking the entire field of sensation as object, my softened gaze resting on the mantel with butter-colored carnations, white daisies, and flickering candles in the morning light.

In the afternoon, he had all us wounded children who lack trust lie on our backs and sides to meditate so we could feel the earth “holding” us, the ground, to create the karma of trust for the next meditation. 

Part of what I am going to have to come to terms with are what changes in practice and paradigm will be required of me as I take this teacher as my own, which changes he alluded to the other day when we spoke on the veranda. For starters, in this tradition there is no “done.” In fact the Practice of Nonmeditation today was this whole surrender, precisely, of such notions as “attainment” and “being done” and even “surrendering.”

So, although I think there are ways that this course cross-maps to the one I’ve been working, the whole notion of getting anywhere other than right here is so anathema to the practice that there really can’t be a talk of what “path” I’m on. This is not to say that this teacher is against maps. He is definitely a mapper, and very technically precise in teaching, but he indicated that realization is a matter of cycling through the same practices again and again but “at higher resolution.” Then there is Dzogchen at the “Cutting Through” stage. How all that crosswalks to what Daniel calls “fourth path” I have no idea.

No meditator

No meditation

No stages

No states

No attainment

Nothing to attain

No God

No Buddha

No practice

No Path

(Oh–and No Jhanas!)

Sit in meditation with a realized teacher who is repeating this sort of list over and over again to you, for hours  on end, and see if it doesn’t crack wide open the substratum of subtle resistance in you. And when all that “doing” is blasted out, then he reads Talopa’s ancient instructions, which brought up a palpable sense of a thousand years of transmission. I was weeping like someone interrogated in internment camp.

Afterward, we sat again, and he had each of us bring up, aloud, the name of a friend who is suffering and from what; then he brought up all the children suffering in the world from loneliness and fear, all the broken children who cannot trust, and that is when I literally felt light blasting through my chest and head–coming from this man and the whole retinue of beings behind him. “Beyond time,” he said, “beyond space–awaking is inevitable: the Buddha is sitting under the Bodhi tree; Jesus is on the cross.” And then he read the heart sutra’s “gone beyond” mantra, and we all felt the interconnection holding all the suffering beings in the world. “Awareness–the sky; heart–a warming sun: Never doubt that what you feel right now makes a difference.”

My whole organism is in a kind of spinning disintegration and reorganization, in shock, with shockwaves passing through this mind-heart-body.

I know this may sound like Buddhist Kumbaya, but it was truly the most authentic intensity of the Path that I’ve encountered so far in this life.

Love to you all, x,

Jenny

Final Post to the Dharma Underground Journal

18 April 2018: Context

What follows was my last journal post to my Dharma Underground journal, although I later posted to discussions in the DhU until October, when I was banned a second time. As soon as I posted what follows, within moments Daniel was in my journal space replying to it at some length right there in my journal, after having said many times to me that he reads no one’s journal.. The rest of the Underground slept while these posts were made. I went to Skype IM after he wrote some harsh things to me, and I told Daniel we should both remove our written argument from the DhO. He agreed. We both deleted what we had posted. I still have a copy, somewhere, of what he wrote, however.

I was about to go on my first retreat, a Mahamudra retreat with my new teacher, which is where I attained MCTB 4th path. Before I left, I pleaded with Daniel to have a mere 2-minute call with me just to agree on some logistics for resolving our argument so we could finish the book on my return. Instead, the problems escalated. We fought by email, and he would not call me from his beach vacation place. He later told me he had turned off his phone to go for a swim and nap.

At his ignoring my request for a short call, I felt hurt, betrayed, and furious. I issued an ultimatum. It was ignored. I delivered on that ultimatum by telling him by email in strong language to leave me alone and that I was not going to work on MCTB2. 

At 8 p.m., 3 hours after the deadline for the ultimatum, he texted a bit to me about how it can be a good thing to go into retreat with a sense of breaking with the past. 

I went on retreat with my new teacher, thinking my concentration would be ruined. It was not ruined. I practiced well, even though I sometimes cried in the bathroom and texted Daniel that we had to resolve all this and finish the book. He finally texted back only that he had already found a new editor.

We very slowly became cautiously friendly again until October, when he reacted with rage at my sending him a tantric meditation I learned from my new teacher.  I was then banned a second time from the Dharma Underground and Dharma Overground, for life.  I retain an email from moderator Claudiu, which states that I had broken no DhO posting rule but Daniel was “concerned” about one of my (completely appropriate) posts. This was right after Daniel had gone into a rage over my emailed tantric instructions. I was banned because of Ingram’s politics. There was no love lost in separating from the DhO, which I had never enjoyed in the least. But being banned from DhO included being banned from the small DhU group I had revived. After I was locked out, that DhU group died away. I retained my friendships and my journals in my own virtual space.


2:11 a.m.: Disgust (ñ8)  Reobservation (ñ10)

This was a very hard sit, 39 minutes that felt almost torturous. I quickly gave up on trying to do a concentration practice. I leaned toward insight. Disgust tends to hit me harder than Fear, Misery, and even Reobservation. Emotionally, it is as if embarrassment and paranoia reduces to the hatred of a lowly cornered rat.

I’m tired, sleepy, and trying to change my sleep schedule, so that made it really hard for me to stay with the feelings at the level of sensation, but I did my best. Although I felt like I was “getting nowhere” and should just quit, I remembered Daniel’s writing once, “Good. There is nowhere to go,” and “There is no way that practice isn’t doing something, even though it may not seem like it at the time.”

So I did the time. Many physically painful sensations would tear through my body, and then the next moment I would notice that they weren’t really there at all. Then they would flare again. Very strange. I tried to investigate how and why these sensations arose, but I was stymied.

Seven of Wands, Reversed

This card is right on. It indicates feelings of exhaustion, hesitation, embarrassment, loss of reputation, and malicious talk of me behind my back. Mainly, in the present situation, I think it mainly stands for embarrassment, overreaching, self-doubt, and anger at myself for not taking a big step backward sooner. This too shall pass.

2:16 a.m.: ñ11.j4 (High Mastery), Then ñ11.j4.j4 (High Equanimity), and Then ñ15 (The No-Self–Suffering Door to Fruition)

Indeed, I now know why the Three of Swords (Reversed) mysteriously and ominously arose the other night. It is a confusing, turbulent time for me. Key efforts at a human connection have failed. Meantime, I have blossomed anyway. It never was about this other person. It was all a dream, an unreality that I stoked and subtended constantly to give myself something, someone else, to believe in, someone of magically brilliant capacity and kindness too exalted to stoop.

And then there is the reality: The way his kindness is only from a safe “pragmatic” distance, the way I’m verbally contextualized as a burden, a pest even. The way I’ve been called polarizing at the very moments when I’ve been most brave, most true, most touched into the greater good as our collaborative goal. The way in this so-called community I’ve continually been sacrificed as a scapegoat in a politics that I never bargained for, did not create, and do not welcome in my life.

I have hundreds of friends better and truer than this, a goodly number of them intimate. There is in this world sweet, straightforward people who are naturally with me when I’m with them, and even when I’m not. None of this continual struggle, complexity, and emotional unavailability to sort issues. None of the talking down, down, down, to me, as if I were stupid, nothing, a gnat, an insect, even less.

The questions I patiently ask over and over and over and over and over again, for months, never receiving an answer on behalf of this so-called community of people who deserve answers that make at least some semblance of sense. Just self-contradiction here or refusal to engage. And excuses and excuses and excuses.

The only answer I receive, repeatedly, is that everyone is dispensable, including me. I’ve even been told that my leaving is not a “threat,” as if my being kind to myself is only force for threatening him. That is not a compassionate answer from someone who gives a damn whether other people awaken. No one who is true to even his own model of enlightenment would say and do such things to me.

It is one thing to be gravely mistaken and humanly flawed; it is quite a worse and unenlightened thing to never ever admit publicly or even privately to having made mistakes. It is quite another thing to contradict everything you’ve stood for so vehemently as the truth, to violate that supposed truth with subsequent actions and words, never resolving anything for the “audience,” as he calls us.

For just one instance among many, there is an injunction in MCTB that people follow a tradition that is “time-tested” and “proven to get results.” Is Actual Freedom either of those? No. Yet the utterer of those words engaged in something not time-tested at all, stating that he was mistaken about being done in 2003, was in fact not satisfied with his attainment, which he has elsewhere claimed is so satisfying that it satisfies instantly even his question whether it exists.

So which is it, Daniel?

Why was that injunction tossed aside by its own utterer? Why, years later, will he still not answer this question as all the high-level practitioners leave his site, distance themselves from him, and contact me with doubts as to his attainments precisely on the terms I’m presenting here. And his only response to me is that his “audience” comes and goes for reasons that are “random.” This is a man who will not own up, be honest, be transparent, be emotionally and spiritually present. This is a man who is protecting himself, a self, an emphatic self, not a self seen through, not a self burned through with compassion and wisdom.

The way I have repeatedly been chastised or publicly sacrificed by this person for being somehow at fault, not merely inadequate, but faulty at the very moments I was at my most openhearted. Those who love me, and whom I love, understand exactly what I’m doing and am about: They commune, abide, and are at ease with me. They are honest, forthcoming, transparent, pure. They don’t sacrifice me, use me, put me down, set me aside, accuse me, threaten me, and refuse all explanation why things have to be this way between us.

My true friends don’t refuse to call or Skype with me unless it is recorded for political and self-defensive purposes. They don’t call me names and accuse me of lying and foul motives. They reciprocate, naturally, without a single reservation or self-guarding fear. I don’t need this fake version of that. I don’t need a merely virtual sangha strangled with ugly politics, ridiculously attainment-feuding secularized leaders, and self-guarding, self-guarding, self-guarding defensiveness and retreat from human intimacy.

Something is now deeply turning in me, and it has been for a while. The ocean within has drawn undertow, has turned slowly, and now pauses at the quiet peak before it rushes thunderously to a shore.

I have never been cherished here and never will be. Here I will only be tolerated when not devalued, then rebuked, and then thrown under the bus and hung out to dry on the DhO, a sacrificial example made of a woman with so little self-respect that she continues to permit being thus used.

There will be no heart connection. Without that, there is nothing of value here pragmatic or otherwise. I will give, and give, and give, and give, and there will be nothing there to give to, no one there to give to, but just a glittering straw man in a mirage of a vajra throne. All my invention, my fabrication, my misdirected, rejected, rebuked, set aside, deferred, condemned love and kindness.

So it returns to me, where it belongs.

Anger can be righteous, said Shargrol, can sometimes be the only way back to adequate love for who I am, for this precious life, for purity, for this brief ecstasy of feeling truly alive.

After our last quarrel, which ruined my 51st birthday, though that is nothing to my disrupting his current beach vacation, I felt something was permanently ruined. I was right. And so something is done. I worked like crazy on MCTB2 to try to finish Part II before my retreat. He didn’t even bother to inform me [as required by our written agreement], meantime, that he was taking off for vacation. This is the same  discourtesy he exercised months ago. A doctor’s time is most valuable; an editor’s emphatically is not. He has all the privileges, and I have no right to complain.

I sat on my pillows and blanket tonight. I lighted the white vanilla-peppermint candle that is still weeping white wax out of the eye I carved into it during a ritual I performed to resolve to see the entrances and exits Daniel can see. I cried. For a full 20 minutes, sobbed. Daniel is wrong if he truly believes that crying like that in Equanimity is not meditation. It surely is.

Something happened, something was surrendered, something cut anchor lines, and I floated. Everything floated, everything was rocking into everything else. Everything was flashing in and out of everything else like quanta, ephemeral. Then it all merged and lifted. Forms were barely there. I was barely there, although I was gazing at the pure bright whiteness of the flame and the oozing, weeping vanilla-peppermint wax. Something let go completely. “I have been doing this for eons,” I said. “I have been doing this for eons, and I can stop now.” There is nothing forthcoming, nothing that is not already here, already in and through me, already pure, already known beyond understanding, already reciprocated.

I was staring, and I was what was stared at. There was a clockwise spin, a cessation, and bliss as if I were spirited out on sparkling silver wings.

“No heart connection will be reciprocated,” I said.

“Truly,” he replied.

I need for this statement issued to me so many months ago to sink in deeply, to the point where I earnestly and completely choose the higher path, believing it, to the point where I take the step to leave. “Too busy” is an excuse. “Pragmatism” is an excuse.

“You don’t know who you are dealing with. I don’t want to hurt you. Please help me not to do that.”

Are these the words of an enlightened being to an aspirant practitioner, a friend in the dharma, a member of his sangha, someone who has tried to help and has helped?

Who in this relationship has the lowest threshold for feeling threatened and in return threatens? Is this person enlightened to even his own published standards? Can he even stand this question? Will he ever fucking answer? No, he won’t. I know that now. And so I have my answer, and I’m looking henceforth at a bifurcated path.

Eric M W’s Response

I hope this situation is resolved in a way that is beneficial for all involved.

I am thankful for all your work on MCTB2. You’ve dealt with a lot of stuff along the way and still kept at it.

I hope you are well.

Metta,

Eric

Reflections on the Salubrious Effects of Ritual

My ritual is done, and an interesting experience. I’m not going to write about the happening specifically, for it was and is too personal. But I will state some general observations that arose from having done this first magickal ritual.

Magickal Workings Cannot Be Rushed

First, I thought that this was a very simple, elegant spell. Even so, it actually took many hours to do–4 or 5 hours, with all the preliminaries and with all the impromptu touches and unexpected feelings that arose that I had to figure out what to do with.

The Reality of the Ritual Itself Changed Me

In fact, at one point I considered whether I needed to stop and not do the spell. And that leads to my second observation: Despite all the planning, careful preliminaries, careful setup, careful waiting for the right insight stage, and so forth–still the experience of working a spell proper happens in this moment. Therefore, despite the strength of concentration and intention, or perhaps because of them, some previously unseen stuff can show up. In this case, it did. So what I was confident was a straightforward desire and good, dragged up some gruesome corpses from the depth, and this occurrence transformed my intent.

Three of Swords Reversed, Revisited

Not that I ended up abandoning the spell, but I did suddenly understand what that Three of Swords reversed was about. I had direct understanding of a certain past, direct understanding of a new future, and direct feeling into loss, grief, love, bewilderment, and feelings of desertion. Something is being severed, and I have to decide whether to shrivel up around lost hope of awakening, or whether to go forward on my own.

This Path Is My Own

I’m a fan of ritual. It clarifies relative truth. If you seek to bypass, it will throw those avoidances up in your face if you are lucky, earnest, and concentrated. Rather than transform reality, the reality of the spell transformed me, and perhaps that is the point of it all.

Eclectic Jenny Is the Pathless Path

Which brings me to my last observation: I’m not of a mind to take on an established tradition. I don’t want to have to learn to say some stupid words in a language other than my own. I don’t want to identify as a pagan, a witch, or a Wiccan. I don’t want to fit into some mold or path. I want to research, borrow eclectically, and put together my own arrangements and words. I want them to be my own language, culture, and feeling for beauty–what goes where intuitively. This also feels very personal, and I’m not at all a private or secretive person–much too much the opposite, really. However, my instinct at this point is to keep these workings very much to myself and by myself. To keep it real, not artificial, not philosophical, but grounded in me, my culture, my intuition, my head, my body, my heart, my beauty.

Ice-Blue Nimitta and A&P with Stable Fourth Samatha Jhana

Fractal Stages and States

Well, I’m not going to belabor this sit, because there is little to say about it, and I wish to finish my Tarot reading around the Three of Swords.

I was deeply content, productive, and calmly energetic today—very productive at work and then after work on MCTB. I felt warm and somewhat out-traveling to others, yet I was content to be alone, listening to my electronica and gazing at those charcoal clouds with silvery outlines. Such a beautiful world. It goes fast, but now that is okay, too.

I sat for an hour, intending to work concentration. Early jhanas are plagued with raptures that amount to mild fear, clearly an avoidance of something I would have insight into if the raptures (I) would allow me to concentrate.

I naturally paid no attention to which jhana I was in, but the center of gravity was the formless realms, especially Nothingness and NPNYN. I think I had a Fruition coming out of eighth. It was preceded with a vision of my last dog, the basset hound Homer. His eyes. I think my Fruitions are weak for the same reason that my concentration in j1 and j2 is shit: I’m blocking direct insight into something. Why? Well, it is easy to see why Freud invented the subconscious. Now we are plagued with it.

I am frequently annoyed during the early jhanas by itching, stinging, odd skin things. Posture is good and without pain. At certain points, though, I felt like I was shaking. At the end of the sit, after I opened my eyes, I saw and felt those big undulations, but how could I be in Equanimity still? Also, I felt vibratory interference patterns, so I’m getting mixed messages and am not sure where I am in cycle. Mood is neither hypomanic nor negative, though, so that would certainly suggest Equanimity. In general, my stages seem all mixed up since April. Confusion.

There were some really deep black hole types of shifts in this sit. I was startled by them.

I’ve a decreased need for sleep—very obvious, which fits with A&P.

I drew the Magician, reversed, which indicates something is blocked, a hindrance. It could be from within or without.

Best guess on stage/state is ñ4.j2.j1, which means I’m in immature A&P with some raptures involving fear and fine shaking. Well, this would make sense after the glorious Equanimity I had recently, so I’m back at the A&P. I was quite hard in formlessness, though. How do I note that?

Sleep Self-Deprivation

I’m fairly exhausted, or should be, having slept only 4.5 hours after vowing to stop doing this to myself. I didn’t even sit last night. I became obsessed with trying to straighten out some confusion I’m still experiencing with Daniel over the MCTB2 topics of formations and the Three Doors. I was going to push hard to finish Part II before my retreat, but he’s going to the beach, I just found out, so instead I think I’ll take a private vacation to read my mahamudra book and work on concentration in preparation for my retreat starting Friday, July 24.

Workplace Sangha, Metta

I had a lunchtime sit with my workplace sangha, with whom the energy is always palpable and incredibly supportive. Despite my sleep deprivation, I found little resistance and entered into concentration readily with only slight and very brief pulse of fear-rapture around j2. Around j2 to j3, much metta and compassion practice arose spontaneously. This took the form of visualizing and mentally speaking to each person. At the height of this there were two back-to-back blip-outs and bliss waves, preceded by a slight spin. After the meditation had ended, I was surprised to find tears had run out the corners of my eyes during this phase of the sit. These were tears of gratitude, joy, and love. All that I most need and want seems to arise timely, and this includes all the dear people I reviewed in turn before my mind’s eye.

Stable Bright Nimitta in sj4 (Samatha)

I had to push myself a little to leave j3 and rise because we have only 30 minutes to sit at these. So then j4 arose gloriously. Soon emerged an ice blue nimitta—bright, filling the whole visual field, and impressively stable (sj4). In this current moment, I want to register to myself that this is an accomplishment of sorts because just months ago my nimitta would always bloom, roll, shift, shrink, and change shape. That these lights are full, bright, and solid now is amazing. I noticed that there is a sweet spot between allowing and intending in keeping these going. Too much of either makes them collapse into darkness, and then I have to feel again for that sweet spot. It is a kind of extremely relaxed, trusting, interactive intention with the light.

Formless Realms

Next I called up j5, and it was very stable. The nimitta disappeared from awareness as awareness was the spatial. Then j6 was a bit more difficult today, maybe because I’m so sleep deprived and I normally find j6 very draining of energy somehow.

Then j7 was cool collapse to blackness and later a turning away from even that little input, which may have been j8.

Lost with the Maps in Hand

I’m very confused as to my insight stage. Earlier my guess was A&P; now I feel very locked into Equanimity. However, this was a heavily samatha-side sit, so maybe this is still A&P post-NS and j4 dominant. I’ll look at the tables again in a minute.

Okay, just looked at all the handy new tables and lists in MCTB2. Equanimity and A&P are very, very often confused for each other. So I’m ñ4.j2.sj4, which means that I’m in the A&P insight stage (ñ4), the rapturous second phase of that insight stage (j2), with my sit being heavily pulled toward the samatha side at the fourth jhana (sj4).

Preparation Toward Change Already Under Way

I asked my friend Barry for advice about this retreat. He said that it can really take a lot out of one because so much is happening below the conscious level. He told me that it isn’t just that J will point discursively; it is that he will enter the meditation with us. There is empowerment in this, a magickal dimension. I feel strongly, but perhaps too expectantly, that this is the new direction and new teacher that my cards have been portending for months. We shall see. Barry told me that the best thing to do is to go in with trust in the situation, trust in this teacher (who is indeed trustworthy), and love for everyone there. He said that this loving openness would best sustain me, and I think that was wise advice. Again, more friends to be grateful for. There is so very much . . . yes, I feel A&P with all this gushing.

I’m looking forward to casting my resolution “spell” this weekend and finish my Tarot reading on the formidable Three of Swords Reversed. Oh, I think I still have a couple of sits to record, too. Overload here.

I need to work on kindness to my body: proper schedule regulation, sleep, nutrition, exercise, skin care, balance. I will cast for this and especially sleep and weight loss.