At the level of ego, I’m certainly confused.
I’ve finally broken through a weight plateau that was defying both exercise and diet for the longest time. But I’ve also come away the loser with some poison oak, and the areas of my body that aren’t itching are fewer than those that are.
I had an extremely productive day, getting through multiple days of scheduled work all in one big rush. But the company that work was done for is flailing about in the mud.
I determined that I need to get less done each day, because I was having a bit of self-induced strain at trying to get it all in, but now I feel under-pressured. My relaxed stride is unsteadied by a bit of decompression sickness.
It’s like the starboard engine went out, but the port engine picked up the slack and now I’m somehow still in the air but veering off course.
I’m sure you’ve had those days… and that we both will have them again.
And it’s perfectly fine. Great, in fact. Because we’re not the pilots, and the pilot deserves the utmost trust.
For me, in this current strange space, the itching and the mental waves that arise from it are the keys to freedom from body attachment. The strangeness of my work environment is an unveiling of something I’m not yet aware of – but I sense it’ll be good, whatever it is. As for the disturbing relaxation, it’s a rising from oceanic depths that I myself have created, and it’s both necessary and inevitable.
And the same is true for all of us, at all times and in all places. We have this concept of a linear journey from one point to another, and it’s tempting to try to keep the spinning plates balanced so that everything moves forward equally. But that’s nonsense and, in fact, captivity of the self by the self.
Discomfort is precious. It’s sore wrists and ankles after the manacles fall off. It’s squinting when we come into the light after darkness. We can quickly put our chains on again and retreat back into the cave, or we can consciously decide that we’re going to stop telling ourselves we’re uncomfortable. We’ll just be… whatever we are. Until we’re something else.
At the level of spirit, I’m radiant.
When we accept and welcome discomfort just the same as comfort, we are liberated. There’s no such thing as “veering off course” if we trust the pilot – any way we go will be the holy path we seek.