On the court

Dearest Mooji

I remember in satsang you really don’t want to deal with people talking from ‘personhood’.  If anyone is talking, you want them talking from their authentic self, beyond the ego.  What happens then, as I noticed, there is nothing to say as no problems exist from one grounded in their own awareness as awareness itself.

So I am going to write this post keeping You in mind, as if I am standing in front of you in satsang.  Although I would never speak of this in satsang as it is beyond trivial but I am not in satsang today and so I shall begin…

I play tennis.  I love playing tennis.  (Whoever that ‘I’ is, steeped with egoic identity I presume?)

Todays tennis clinic involved moving up courts. If you played well with your doubles partner you move up a court and moving down to the bottom court if you didn’t.

Also I degress, let me start with….you had to choose a partner.  Yup. That.

I have never liked the whole choosing partner thing.  I have been on the ‘less desirable position’ most times as a child, where I was the last one standing, not chosen, crestfallen.  Not good enough. Nobody wants me. Wanting to shrink into a small ball and fall into the middle of the earth.

This of course didn’t happen, I didn’t shrink, earth didn’t open up and I had to just suffer !!!

Standing there, with wobbly knees, everyone staring at me,  hating the situation I was in, until some reluctant side unwillingly called me over to their side or even worse the teacher forcing one of them to take me on.

So all these years later, I have a soft spot for the one not chosen, for whatever reason one is not chosen, and so I don’t choose the best player to be my partner, or a friend, I wait, until everyone has chosen their partner, I am happy with whomever is leftover.

So the competition starts, we had to win three games in a row.  Partners moved up a court, some moved down, and we remained, starting and ending on the bottom court.

Now steeped in awareness as awareness itself, its all good but make no mistake there is a battle going on inside.

A pit in my stomache, frustration and anger running through my viens.

I don’t mind the mistakes my partner makes, if anything I am partly relieved it is not just me.

It is my mistakes.

I observe all this.

Even the observer, tainted with self identity, I can observe.

Is the pain evidence of an idea ‘I’ have of being amongst the most brilliant of all the days players?  And what that means for Me is fading away, disintegrating, withering painfully, like one of those bugs that gets turned upside down and somehow dies in that spot or like a moldy piece of bread…decaying, beyond recognition until it actually looks like it has metamorphosed into a living scientific experiment that you need gloves on to throw it in the trash.

Yup.  Get the picture.  Thats what I was going on inside, painful process indeed!!

Because lets face the facts, if my partner and I moved up the courts, and were blitzing everyone, I wouldn’t have felt what I felt.  I wouldn’t have observed what I observed.  It would be quite the opposite.  I would have had a smile on my face, I would remain humble of course, as any awesome inspiring sportsperson does, but the smile on my face and lighthearted nature would definitely declare ‘I am the Winner!’

So Dearest Mooji am I observing that young girl I was as a child, not being chosen, not feeling good enough, do her feelings come up and haunt the present?  It was just an idea back then, it is just an idea right now, like a bad dream, how does one put an end to this idea and limiting belief once and for all?

Wait….I hear your reply.

‘Who is watching?’ I hear you enquire.  ‘You know the answer.’

I reply, ‘I am watching.’

‘Who is this I’ you press.

‘Awareness’ I say knowingly.

‘What are the attributes of Awareness, does it feel sad, or less than’ you may ask

‘Noooo, it does not. It is infinite and vast and empty of everything but everything.’

Can even this ‘I’ that you say is ‘Awareness’ be observed’? I guess you may also ask.

I reply quickly, ‘yes it can’.

You smile your kind and loving smile, like the smile from the father of all fathers.

‘Does it matter, what is arriving in any given moment?  Let it come and go’ you may kindly and knowingly whisper.

‘You aren’t staying aware, you are Awareness itself.’

‘Marinate in this’ I imagine your voice repeat to me.