Becoming Free of Our
Substitute Life - Ezra Bayda
A
Zen student walked in to see the master. Sitting down, he blurted out,
"There's something terribly wrong with me!" The master looked at him
and asked, "What's so wrong?" The student, after a moment's
hesitation, responded, "I think I'm a dog." To that the master
responded, "And how long have you thought that?" The student replied,
"Ever since I was a puppy."
What
does this story have to do with spiritual practice? Everything. It puts the
basic human problem in a nutshell. Next time you find yourself immersed in the
drama of a strong emotional reaction, awash with deeply believed thoughts, ask
yourself how long you've taken these thoughts to be the truth. Especially notice
the ones you believe the most: "Life is too hard," "No one will
ever be there for me," "I'm worthless," "I'm
hopeless." How long have you believed these thoughts? Ever since you were
a puppy!
These
deeply held beliefs may not be visible on the surface of our minds; we're often
not even aware of them. Yet we cling to such deep-seated beliefs, these basic
identities, because they've become rooted in our very cells—in our cellular
memory. And their imprint on our lives is unmistakable. But in order to avoid experiencing
the painful quality of these beliefs and identities, we continually engage in
various strategies of behavior—habitual coping patterns that buffer us from the
anxious quiver of insecurity. These strategies are our attempt to establish
some sense of safety, security, and familiarity. They might include seeking
achievements, becoming a helper, trying to control our world or withdrawing
toward safety. But do they ever give us a sense of genuine satisfaction? No.
All too often they keep us stuck in dissatisfaction, not knowing where to turn.
I call this place "the substitute life."
If
we're fortunate enough to aspire to become free of our substitute or artificial
life, we may start questioning our most basic assumptions, including our very
mode of living. Although such questioning can be painful, it's something we all
need to do periodically in order to move toward a genuine life. The one
question that goes directly to the heart of the matter is: "What is my
life really about?" The degree to which we can be honest in answering this
question will determine our clarity in understanding the basic human
dilemma—that we are cut off from awareness of our true nature.
Do
you try to maintain a sense of order and control, to avoid feeling the fear of
chaos, of things falling apart? Do you try to gain acceptance and approval, to
avoid the fear of rejection, of not fitting in? Do you try to excel and attain
success, to avoid the fear of feeling unworthy? Or do you seek busyness in
adventure or pleasure, to avoid the deep holes of longing and loneliness? All
of these strategies have one thing in common: they keep us encased in our
artificial or substitute life.
None
of us are beyond this. We all follow some strategy to escape feeling the fears
that silently run our life. Yet even when we know all about these fears, most
of the time we don't want to have anything to do with them. Perhaps this sounds
pessimistic and discouraging, but it doesn't have to be. In fact, it's only by
realizing the extent to which we are asleep—the extent to which we are driven
by the vanity of our endeavors, the smallness of our attachments, or the
urgency of avoiding our fears—that we can wake up, out of our state of sleep,
out of our substitute way of living.
About the Author:
Excerpted from How to Live a Genuine Life by Ezra Bayda.
