Liberation Unleashed

by Ilona Ciunaite

  Ilona: This made me smile. You cannot think your way out of this. Take a closer look.

  Wait for a thought, notice its arrival and departure. See how it’s a tiny blink and how it is in itself empty. Thought + thought + thought becomes an expression, description, which in itself is empty. Now try this: get something tasty and experience the taste. Just feel it for a minute.

  Focus on the sensation of tasting. What is it that does the tasting behind the sensation?

  Is there anything behind?

  Then for another minute describe that taste, describe in words what was felt. How similar or different are the experience and the description of it?

  What do you notice here?

  Do the same with smell. Take something and experience it, then describe in words.

  Now try to describe awareness, just as you see it. What do you notice?

  Sending love.

  Rowland: Thank you, Ilona, for reminding me of the way thought tries to get a “grasp” on all of this! I think quite a bit of suffering and frustration come from this, and then trying to square what one teacher says with what another says, and then thought is spinning, and saying, I’m never going to get this! The mind is always trying to conceptualize; it is always looking for satisfaction, which it will never get. Perhaps it is also trying not to confront the fact of its own nonexistence!

  Wait for a thought, notice its arrival and departure. See how it’s a tiny blink and how it is in itself empty.

  Yes, this is clear: the thought “I” just arose, and left. But the space remains unaffected.

  Now try this: get something tasty and experience the taste. Just feel it for a minute.

  Focus on the sensation of tasting. What is it that does the tasting behind the sensation?

  Is there anything behind?

  There is no one who does the tasting—just the sensation of taste, immediate and present. The thought I am tasting this comes up automatically but then passes, and the taste remains.

  Then for another minute describe that taste, describe in words what was felt. How similar or different are the experience and the description of it?

  What do you notice here?

  Initially I found it quite hard describing taste in words, and what struck me was the difference (total difference) between description and actual experience! What does the word “sweet” actually have in common with the sensation of “sweetness”?

  Do the same with smell. Take something and experience it, then describe in words.

  The same again. The description of “smell,” and the experience of it: almost no relation!

  Now try to describe awareness, just as you see it. What do you notice?

  One thing that has struck me while doing this investigation is how any verbal description doesn’t come close to actual experience. And yet we believe so strongly that words tell us what is “real.” Awareness feels like a kind of space in which everything is coming and going, which can’t be separated from those comings and goings but is not affected by them (even though it feels like it is). It is silent, alert, open, nonjudgmental. It doesn’t have any issues or preferences regarding any sensations that might come up.

  For example, quite a lot of anxiety has been coming up over the past few days (I have suffered from panic, depression, and OCD for quite a few years). The mind constructs a horrible story around the sensations of fear, but awareness, if I look now, is just aware of what is happening. It is not wishing anything away.

  Thank you, Ilona! I hope this e-mail finds you well and enjoying the sunshine. Love, R.

  Ilona: Good work, Rowland! Let’s dig deeper. There is an exercise on my blog called “Labels” [see page 76 in this book]; do the exercise and write to me what you noticed. There is also an article on language [see “The Trick of Language” on page 73 of this book] in the articles section; read that too. So today, investigate how language works and report when ready. Much love.

  Rowland: Thank you so much for that exercise, Ilona, really powerful and revealing! I found that writing without the “I”/“me” was less tense, no need to refer experience to an “I.” It felt lighter, more free. I also noticed how tempting it was to bring in an “I,” and how much the mind resisted this! Several times I had to catch myself when about to write “I hear” and so forth. The mind really wanted to own this. I feel at the moment like the mind really, really does not want to hear that it (the “I”) does not exist, and is afraid. It feels uncomfortable, almost, if it is not thinking and referring experience back to an “I,” and it will try anything to survive! Here is what I wrote (sorry, it’s probably extremely boring).

  With “me”/“I”:

  I am sitting in my chair at work. I am listening to the sounds outside: voices, cars, the hum of traffic, doors closing in the corridor. I am typing—I can feel the sensation of my fingers on the keys of the keyboard, I can see the colors of the keyboard and computer, I can hear the sounds of the typing as my fingers move over the keyboard.

  Without “me”/“I”:

  Sitting in the chair. Sensation of hardness against the feet. Pausing and hearing sounds outside. There are voices and doors opening and closing. Pausing again. Fingers moving over keyboard, sensation of hardness and cold. Pause. Hearing police siren outside. Pause, wondering what to write.

  Thank you again, Ilona! Hope you are enjoying the bright summer sunshine. Love, R.

  Ilona: Hi Rowland. Thanks for your reply. I see you missed the point of the second part of the exercise, slightly. The instruction was to write all in verbs, without subject doing action, just description of action happening. Try again, see if you notice a difference. Just go a little bit deeper into expressing experiencing through verbs; you had that in the beginning, but then it slipped. Use “ing” with words, like “feeling,” “hearing.” See if you notice more continuity, movement.

  Does the description of what is happening influence what is happening? If so, what and how? Does it matter if you add “I” and “me” to the description, does that make “I” and “me” a doer?

  Is there a doer?

  Sending love.

  Rowland: Thank you, Ilona. Sorry about the misunderstanding! I have just repeated the exercise (below is what I wrote). I found it very effective; it made me realize what a load of anxiety the belief in the “I” generates!

  Does the description of what is happening influence what is happening? If so, what and how? Does it matter if you add “I” and “me” to the description, does that make “I” and “me” a doer?

  No, the description does not influence what is happening, there are sounds/sights/sensations which are immediate. The description felt is completely secondary. With “I” and “me” added in, it felt heavier, with a weight of responsibility, as if “I” am doing the hearing, feeling, seeing, pausing, thinking, turning. If I look now, “I” cannot be the doer, however strong the conditioning might be, “I” is a thought that comes and goes. It seems to be the doer, but it cannot be. There is no real difference between the thoughts “I” or “Rowland” or “me” and the thoughts “broccoli” or “spirituality” or “chakra” or “rhubarb.” If I ask, “To what does the thought ‘I’ refer?” I can’t find anything. Just sensations and a kind of emptiness. It occurred to me that the link between the I-thought and the sensations of “body” is just an assumption.

  Is there a doer?

  It feels like there is one, but I can’t find one. The I-thought certainly cannot be the doer. A “doer” of thought can’t be found either.

  Here is what I wrote the second time:

  Sitting in chair, looking at screen, noticing letters, waiting for thought to arise, listening to voices outside, listening to doors opening and closing, feeling breath rising and falling, waiting for thought, listening to traffic, listening to clock ticking, feeling fingers on keyboard.

  Thanks so much, Ilona! Love, R.

  Ilona: Great observations! I see you are looking right at it. Yes, there seems to be a doer, but is t
here one? Maybe there is just doing happening? Walking, breathing, showering, raining, just happening. And it’s only a label that assumes an object does the action. Take a look at how language creates the illusion. It’s a good idea at this point to get out in natural surroundings and observe the totality of movement. While sitting and walking, watch how all is wiggling, all is moving interdependently, and that includes thinking and feeling, sensing with senses.

  Is there anything that is separate from everything else?

  Is there a line that divides me from everything else, or is it just a thought, an assumption?

  Is there an inside and an outside?

  Is there an owner of the body?

  An owner of life?

  How about a tree, is there an owner-tree inside that tree?

  There are some questions for you to play with. Write to me once you have done this exercise. Looking forward to hearing from you. Much love.

  Rowland: Thank you, Ilona! I really do appreciate your help and guidance. Nothing is separate except in thought, it is a play of sensations appearing in present awareness. Lots of movement and change, appearing in what doesn’t change, and not separate from that. And it is all happening presently, and presently, and presently. As I watched (a bee on a flower, the wind passing through a tree, horses eating grass, clouds moving in the sky), what hit me was a sense of lightness in nature. Everything just freely moving, but not “as” anything particular. A horse is not going around thinking, I am a horse, but I’m not a tree or a bee. It is just freely, brightly being. This is not to say that nature is always “nice” or “good”; it is beyond such categories, and much simpler. It is just what is happening, without judgement. Whether a beautiful flower opening to the sun, or a dying bird, or a cloud fading, or a spider catching and eating a struggling fly. Just what is happening. Any judgement on this is an imposition of the mind.

  Is there an inside and an outside?

  Again, it’s only thought that divides. There is no inside or outside, except in thought. No “me watching something separate called nature.” The body might feel separate, but does it? Is it? It is just the arising and falling of a cluster of sensations. These are not boundaries unless they are conceptualized. There is the sensation of a leg, and the visual sensation of a flower, both sensations appearing equally in, and equally “close” to, awareness.

  Is there an owner of the body?

  An owner of life?

  How about a tree, is there an owner-tree inside that tree?

  There seems to be an “owner” of the body, but if I look now I can’t find one. These hands are moving over the keyboard without the guidance of thought or any “doing” entity. Thoughts are appearing, and then going onto the screen, but where are these thoughts coming from? There is also no thought going into the movement of my hands. Things are happening quite spontaneously. It is conditioning, which does feel very strong, that insists otherwise. It still feels as if there is an entity inside my head, but again, as I pause now and look, I can’t find one. I can’t even find a head! Thought then says: Maybe there is one, but it can’t be found. But this is just thought spinning away to keep itself in the illusory driving seat. It feels like it doesn’t want to give up!

  Love, R.

  Ilona: Hi Rowland. Nice work. You are getting close.

  Now look:

  Can the body feel separate?

  Is it the body that experiences or is the body experienced?

  Is there an experiencer at all?

  If you look at perceiver/perceiving/perceived, is there a gap?

  Is there a perceiver to which perception is happening?

  Test it with each sense and write what you notice.

  Sending love.

  Rowland: Thanks so much, Ilona. The sensations of the body are certainly experienced; but I can’t say with any certainty that the body itself experiences. Sensations are an object, they are experienced—like the sounds I can currently hear (cars, voices, sound of keys typing). The body just “feels” personal; it “feels” like it is experiencing because of years of conditioning. If I ask who is experiencing sensations, I can’t find anyone. I can’t find an experiencer, just thoughts that come up and hypnotically assert themselves as an “I.” Sometimes thoughts say: There is an “I,” but it just can’t be seen, because it is what I am. But where is the evidence for this? It feels like thought is pulling out all the stops, really fighting dirty! There is no findable perceiver, just perception being noticed.

  Sound is registering here right now…tactile sensation…taste…smell…and the thought “I” or “me” or “Rowland” is equally being noticed by something…there are no gaps…just hearing, and so on.

  There has been quite a bit of frustration here over the past couple of days. Thought has been coming up powerfully: I will never get this, I am unworthy of this. I seem to recognize this on some level, and yet on another level, moment to moment, the I/me/Rowland-thought still seems to be so strong and believable, still seems to take hold. It feels like it can be seen through momentarily. I can see the thought I right now, come and go, and yet seconds later it comes back and hooks me. But where is the me who gets hooked? Again, nothing can be found.

  Thank you again for guiding me on this journey, Ilona!

  Love, R.

  Ilona:

  If I ask who is experiencing sensations, I can’t find anyone.

  The “who” question assumes an entity. There isn’t one. That’s how the answer is blank.

  The body seems to feel that it is the experiencer because of a belief, unquestioned assumption, and yes, years of conditioning.

  Take a look: Is there an “owner” of the body?

  Thought can say many things. It can say that I am a pink panther. But the content of thought is a description, label, fiction, not actuality. There is an “I,” there isn’t an “I”; it’s just thoughts. The trick is to look where thoughts point to, where words make you look. Like the analogy of the finger pointing to the moon, words are fingers, the moon is experience.

  It feels like it can be seen through momentarily. I can see the thought I right now, come and go, and yet seconds later it comes back and hooks me. But where is the me who gets hooked? Again, nothing can be found.

  Oh yeah, there is a stage of going in and out, it will pass. Don’t try to understand, just watch it happening and let it go. Focus on experience rather than the story and keep looking, you are getting close.

  Is there anything you expect or hope to happen?

  If so, what?

  Love back to you!

  Rowland:

  Take a look: Is there an “owner” of the body?

  When I look for one, I can’t find one. Sensations, feelings, perceptions, happening now. Thought bubbling under with a But…trying to assert that there is an owner somewhere. Yes…but… That familiar voice in the head. So an owner of experience can’t be found, just experience. Yet, there is still this strong sense of an owner, somewhere.

  Is there anything you expect or hope to happen?

  If so, what?

  It’s strange that even though there is this subtle loosening, an almost imperceptible link of pinpricks of light, it doesn’t feel like I am getting close. But, that is thought again perhaps, getting back to its old tricks. I decided this morning to have a fresh look at this “sense of self” that seems to persist, and to get rid of any non-dual language I might be using. I think maybe I have gotten too comfortable with this, having read so many non-dual books (and having bought the mug and t-shirt!). So, just authentic, honest, moment-by-moment writing of what is being seen. Just that. Here is what I wrote down. I hope it sort of makes sense, as I wrote fast, apart from pausing to look.

  Why does this sense of self persist so strongly? It feels odd: on the one hand, I definitely can’t locate a separate self. When I have a look, all I can find is thoughts/feelings/sensations and something that notices these. Nothing else. Nothing that stays the same, nothing that isn’t in a constant process of
change, apart from the noticing, which is constant. When I have another look now, what I think is that keeping the sense of self going is still belief in thought. It is the thoughts that are like a “stuck record” in my head, particularly memory thoughts. These still draw me in and make me think I am a “me” unfolding in time. They seem very compelling. They are often painful memories that replay, sometimes from years ago. They tell me things like, I am unworthy or I am bad. They tell me I am not “spiritual” enough, whatever that means. These are the kind of thoughts which I have suffered from even since childhood, self-punishing thoughts.