A question about addiction, avoidance, and why certain experiences carry a stronger pull than others.
A question about addiction, avoidance, and why certain experiences carry a stronger pull than others.
I'd like to talk about this idea of addiction. Until recently, I would take my addiction very seriously, but I had no real presence in it. I was just addicted to things as a way to escape myself. Some people use substances or food or other things as a supplement to something that grounds them. I was using all these things as a way to escape self, as a way of not being with myself. It was everything I did, and much of what I still do. I still watch TV shows, eat junk food, smoke cigarettes. But I can see now how it doesn't really take away anything. It just distracts me. It's a little dopamine hit. I'm not saying I should indulge in everything all the time, so I'm paying attention. Part of me would like to go back to grasping, to blaming and shaming myself, but I'm noticing that going back to that place is a choice. It's a choice whether I want to take on more than I can process in a given moment. Sometimes I smoke a bit of weed, and that's another choice: do I want to put myself in a state where I'm liable to confuse myself? I'm noticing that each thing has its own relationship. I have my own relationship with everything, and it doesn't really impact my being. It's just that my mind grasps onto some things more strongly than others. Certain things, certain environments, certain thoughts and beliefs carry different emotional charges.
I'm not hearing a question yet. Is there one you're intending to ask?
I suppose the question is: why do certain things have stronger emotional charges than others? Certain thoughts and beliefs can make me very unpresent very quickly. Other times I could be here doing something, with all kinds of things happening around me, which is good, but then I might realize nothing is happening and I'm lost again, hypnotized again. So I'm curious about this relationship with different things in the world.
Are you asking why you get pulled into certain experiences, as if the experience were something outside of yourself?
Yes, certain things, as if it were experience outside of myself.
The interpretation of an "outside"
I can tell you how it was for me. I don't mean to tell you how it is for you, but I think it's similar. There's a preference at work. When you experience being pulled by something outside of you, you are creating that. There is the interpretation that something exists outside of you, and then a fascination with that interpretation. There's nothing wrong with that.
For example, I can look at my own past as addiction, specifically addiction to thought. For me it was fascination. When I looked closely, I saw that I truly liked it. There was suffering as a consequence, a side effect, but I still chose it in spite of the suffering, until I got tired of it. It's almost as though I simply changed my mind. A preference changed. I came to prefer feeling the fear and pain I had been avoiding over the imagination I was fascinated with. That shift happened only when I got tired of the energy required to avoid the fear and pain, when the suffering that avoidance created became more unpleasant than the fear and pain itself.
A maturing of taste
Something matures. I often use the metaphor of food. Give a three-year-old sushi and they probably won't like it. Give a five-year-old a McDonald's burger and they'll prefer the burger. But over time, as your taste matures, you come to prefer a good restaurant burger over a McDonald's one, and sushi over junk food. Sophisticated, well-prepared food that a child would find unpleasant becomes what you enjoy.
Over time it becomes clear in your own experience. Why would I get lost in a stormy thought where I can already taste the fear? Why would I stay in that dark world of imagination when I could just be with the delicious taste of this pain? It stops being a battle with oneself. It becomes literally what you prefer. You prefer not to put energy into stormy, dramatic thinking. It's much tastier to simply feel the discomfort, whatever is being avoided.
In moments of really intense, peak pain, I am fascinated in the sense of loving it, not masochistically. It's hard to describe. It's the wonder of the experience. I want to be fully intimate with it because it's so beautiful, even as part of me tries to avoid it because it's too intense. At the same time, I don't want to miss a second of it. I don't want to miss an ounce of the taste of it.
Taste it fully
At first, this is an acquired taste. What I recommend is: keep tasting it. Over time you'll realize it's much better. Keep eating the sushi, metaphorically, and you'll see it's far better than eating McDonald's every day. You'll acquire the taste to the point where you wonder why you would ever choose the other again. It stops being an effort, because it's simply what you prefer.
So when you find yourself doing something you know is an avoidance, do it, but taste it fully. Taste all of the experience, even the knowing that avoidance is happening. If you're smoking a cigarette, have the full experience. Don't miss anything, because you'll start to recognize the little tastes of things that feel slightly unpleasant.
A McDonald's burger has flavors engineered to be more addictive. It's designed that way, but it's less nutritious. Eat it, taste it fully, savor it. And then you start to recognize, actually, that doesn't taste so nice. You take a bite of the better burger and find something there that feels nicer at a deeper level. It's the same with the toxicity of addictive thought that you are choosing.
If you really taste the whole experience of smoking a cigarette, there will be sensations in the body signaling that this is not nice, this is unpleasant, this is hurtful. Instead of covering that up and pretending it isn't there, taste it fully. Feel all of it: the pleasure of the effect in the mind, the pleasure of the sensations, the flavors, and also how the lungs feel. Over time you start to recognize something, and your preferences begin to change. This is how you avoid fighting with yourself or trying to control what you can't.
Knowing rather than accepting
I've noticed for many years a kind of agitation. I can't settle. There's an itch toward something, but really it comes from not wanting to see what's happening.
Pause there. The agitation, and the wanting to not see, the whole experience of not wanting to see: what is that made of?
In myself, I feel I can accept it more, or love it more.
Don't try to accept or love. Just taste it. Know it fully, and know it as what it is. Notice what part of it is thought, what part is a mental picture, what part is emotion, what part is sensation. Taste it fully. Trying to accept, trying to love: that's more thinking. That's another attempt to control something.
We're such gross emotional beings. Sometimes there's a more conscious state where I could really taste it. Other times, like now, sitting on the bus with all this movement happening, it might be more difficult to stay with it and taste it fully.
No, that's a thought. It isn't true, because that thought has an objective. It wants to experience something in a very particular way, the way you imagine it should be experienced. You're on a bus, not at home in a quiet place sitting still. There are sounds, there are people, you're on a phone call, there's distraction. But that is the experience. The experience is the distractions. All of it can be experienced directly and fully. The imagination says, "No, to fully experience it, it has to be like when I'm sitting at home and it's quiet." That's imagination. That's memory. What's happening now is what's happening now, and this is what you can experience.
In a way, I feel strangely less present at home than I do out here.
That's another thought. It's a comparison, an interpretation, more thinking. That doesn't mean stop having those thoughts. It means notice that it's thinking. Notice the comparison. Just notice it's that thought, rather than giving it reality and making it the world you inhabit. The effect of giving it reality is that you stop recognizing the sensations, the sounds, everything else. The center of your experience becomes the imagined comparison between you at home and you now.
There's nothing you can do to accept what's happening more, because it's already fully happening. Everything you're hearing right now, you cannot not hear it. You can't accept it more or less. Everything you're sensing, you can't sense it more or less. It's simply being in this experience.
Already here
So if I just let them be, if they do anything, I could just really be here.
Go a little more subtle, because you're still talking about being here, about you doing something to be here. That's not possible. You are already here. There is nothing other than this happening. Just recognize that "How can I get home?" is another thought. Wanting to be here more is more thinking. You are already here. The subtle part has to do with the imagination of you doing something. Right now you're going back into thought.
Yes. There's nothing I can do or say that will prove anything to myself or to you. It's just this experiment: noticing my wants. I want to make sense of this, to turn life into a puzzle that fits together. But it can't really make sense.
It doesn't need to make sense. It's just moment to moment. As you see more and more in that direction, you can recognize the beauty of what is happening right now. You don't need to go into thoughts to understand it or recognize it. Just the sensations, the colors, the sounds.
I don't need to go into thoughts, but I also don't need to judge the thoughts that come up.
You don't need to do anything. Thoughts arise. Just let the mind be. You can enjoy the mind as if it were a TV show.
Thank you all for joining a little earlier today. Have a lovely day.