Yesterday I watched a Netflix show and tried an experiment.
For the duration of the episode, I’d be only interested in watching and experiencing.
That was the deliciously simple deal.
So no reminiscing, no worrying, no mind wandering.
No thoughts about stuff AFTER the show, tomorrow, two hours ago, or someday and somewhere.
Just here and now.
It occurred to me that I’d probably be fine and safe for an hour, and mental activity about something that was not on my tv, could be easily postponed.
In theory.
Because the experiment failed miserably.
About 12 seconds after I had committed to being fully focused on the show and nothing but the show, my mind started to wander, silently tiptoeing away.
Now I was prepared and I am quite experienced in this realm, so I caught it and ‘gently brought my attention back’, as they tend to say in mindfulness circles.
‘Aha! Got you, no thanks, not this time!’.
So after a bit of extra confirmation that I’d be fine just being engaged in the story on the screen, and the notion that I could start solving all the problems in the world as soon as the episode was over, I was there again.
On my couch.
Just watching.
Listening.
Being involved in whatever happened in the world of 4K pixels.
For 8 seconds.
Of course, I didn’t give up, and I forcefully cut off the mental suggestions that were unrelated to the show but apparently deeply essential to my life.
And I couldn’t.
I can’t.
It’s undoable.
Especially when you’re not authentically and spontaneously lost in something and deliciously flowing, but try to force your way into that experience.
It went like…
Show, watching, watching a bit more, slowly drifting away, quickly ending up in a faraway universe.
Bringing the attention back.
Ugh.
Okay.
You’re fine, and safe.
Let’s do this!
Show, show, SHOW, watching, mental itch, show…-ish, drifting away, drifting more, another really compelling universe.
It was ridiculous.
But it was also exactly as expected.
Of course.
We can entertain all the ideas in the universe about not being kidnapped by the mind, but it’s a mission impossible to control it or shut it down at will.
The mind is not a thing we own, even though it sometimes seems that way, for a bit.
That said, we’re not lost and we don’t have to feel like victims.
Because what CAN happen is to become more directly and consciously aware of the changing nature of every single experience (including the mental ones), and recognize the non-changing awareness that makes all of it possible.
Our position on the Couch of Life, you could say.
Fears and worries and emotions and impulses and sensations go away, always.
We’re not stuck with them, they just flow in and out of experience, and they’ll be reliably followed up by a new, compelling episode.
We don’t HAVE to be freaked out about being freaked out.
Still, we’re absolutely obsessed with the stuff in our lives, whether it’s things or states of mind or mental projections, things we want or things we want to get rid of.
We’re obsessed, even though none of that will ever be stable and sustainable and reliable, and none of that will bring us the pure, powerful steadiness we’re desperately looking for.
The solution is right here, all the time.
We KNOW that we’re alive.
We KNOW there’s a body that seems to live in a world with other bodies.
We KNOW that how we perceive life is absolutely unique compared to others.
We KNOW that every state of mind and every mood we’ve ever had left our awareness and made room for something new, effortlessly, and automatically.
But what we don’t know is that we are that awareness.
It’s literally the only thing that has never not been there.
And no experience in life can change it, scratch it, hurt it, break it, divide it, steal it, diminish it, or take it away.
We ARE the pure knowing of life, not the content, not the things, not anything that isn’t infinite.
We simply can’t BE what comes and goes because that would mean we sometimes disappear.
Life is the show.
Just find out who’s watching.
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(Photo by @thibaultpenin, for Unsplash)