THE TRAIN WRECK

This begins, The Story of My Awakening.

When I sat in the seat in Santa Monica beside Adyashanti, he told me. "There is no need to struggle any more. Your journey ends here. Right here, right now. Just stop. Stop doing. Stop trying. You’ve arrived at the station, so get off the train. Just stop."

Ever since I’ve gotten off the train—ever since I’ve had my awakening, I’ve not written much about it. First of all, words just don’t explain it, at least not very well. There just are not words for some of what has happened.

But I have written down some of the core experiences in a notebook that I always keep with me. So journal keeping, somehow, continues when it wants to. Now, it is wanting to. So, for anyone who might want to experience this journey with me, you can share in it as it unfolds.

OPPOSITES

That night I woke up at two o’clock in the morning. Whenever I tried to pick a word to explain what I was experiencing, I’d immediately think of the exact opposite, which was also true. I was writing in a notebook that I always keep handy, even in the pitch dark. Things were too wonderful in the darkness of the Bunshaft’s living room to turn on the light. I wrote, "this is not an ego thing." And then immediately following, "it is an ego thing."

That might have been the first opposite I discovered, but they have come in flurries like the now, ever since. It is light, it is dark. There is quiet and there is sound. There is nothing yet there is everything. They can go on and on, and it’s pretty simple why they do.

Because this field that was discovered to me, shown to me, is simply "All That and All This" and everything that is and that isn’t. So whatever one says to describe it, the opposite is simply true as well just because It can’t be just black and not white—and all the shades of gray in between.

That is why in Adyashanti’s book, "Silence Dancing" he says that the silence is impossible to describe. It’s almost a joke when you try to do it, but I am a writer and an artist and it’s my job to describe things, so I feel I must try.

Another thing Adya said was "ask the consciousness, 'do I need to do something?'" My consciousness answers, "yes." But I know that "doing" is just as much "not doing" as it is doing. That’s a sentence that could be written on the wall of an insane asylum as well as on the wall of a monastery. It will be tricky to write about all this, but also it should be fun.

I think I should begin in earnest by just transcribing what I wrote in my notebook, all in the dark, just because I think I should. This will come in the days to follow. Hang on, it's a wonderful ride!