I can't say
how
many times I've
asked
myself the same
question.
They're too numerous to count. Just when I think I have the
answer
ie just when I think I understand (which, as we all know
by now, is a
deadly
place to be), he'll do something else totally discontiguous which
elicits the same
question
from me again, and I realize I don't have the
answer
after all, and I realize I don't understand after all. Eventually I
conclude it's best to stay in the
question
ie it's best to keep
asking
the
question.
There's more to be
gotten
by staying in the
question
and letting hundreds and hundreds of
answers
come, than by settling for only one paltry
answer.
This
question
I keep
asking
myself is
"How
does he do that?".
How
does he stay so consistent? How does he stay so on purpose?
How
does he so constantly, so
getably,
so reliably, so ongoingly generate
transformation?
How
does he keep on coming up with what for all intents and purposes is
the
truth
even while he's totally
relentless
and ruthless in his admonitions to not
believe
it?
How
does he always seem to live
out-here24 / 7 / 365
(for the nearly forty years I've known him, and longer in all
likelihood) when everyone knows you can only do that for
short periods of
time
in bursts, after which you have to take a
nap?
How
does he do that?
I'm not going to venture to say I'm any closer to finally figuring it
out. I still don't really know. But I have, after all this time, been
observing
something which until now, I've assumed is the result of
how
he does what he does. And now I'm willing to entertain a new
possibility for it: what if what I've been
observing
as the result of
how
he does what he does ie what if what I've been
observing
as the symptom of
how
he does what he does, is simply what he does? In other
words,
what if this (in
answer
to the
question
"How
does he do that?") is
how
he does it? (I'd better explain what I mean, right?).
Try this on for size (and to
get
this, I suggest you don't focus on your perceived validity or lack of
validity of what I'm saying - rather focus on your
personal
experience of him): if what he does
works,
he does it again. Then he does it again. Then he does it again. Then he
does it again and again and again. And if it keeps
working,
he does it again and again and again and again and again and
again. Over and over. That's what he does. And that's
the
answer
to the
question
"How
does he do that?": if it
works,
he does it again and again and again and again and again and again,
over and over; and if it stops
working,
he drops it.
There's that well-known fable ie there's what I call that
"myth
of the saffron dye", and all its associated concepts and notions.
Ever since the olden days, it's been held that there's a place to
get
to, a space to
get
to, a higher level which is supercharged with special
abilities unknown to mere mortals. It's long been held that
visiting
this place ie being exposed to this space through
techniques
and practices and disciplines and therapies and meditations
is like dipping a white cloth into a vat of saffron dye. When the cloth
is removed, it's saffron
colored.
But the
color
fades when the cloth is exposed to the sunlight. So it's dipped again,
and this time the
colorfixes
deeper, fading less. Eventually through repetition, the saffron
color
is permanently
fixed
in the cloth, and no longer fades. Of course, in this charming
analogy,
the white cloth is you; dipping the cloth into the vat of saffron dye
is
techniques and practices and
disciplines and therapies and meditations;
the saffron
color
fading is the effect on you of the trials and tribulations of
life itself;
and the eventual and hopeful
fixed
saffron
color
is the so-called higher state of consciousness.