Jaya Ashmore

Not to think that awakening is what we think it is, what we imagine it is, what we hope and fear it is. Yet, awakening is a clear end -- of distortions of the mind and being. We cannot imagine it, yet it is real, precise, and possible

India has grounded me in two important ways.

1) On my first long retreat in Bodh Gaya in 1988, I expected something in my brain to short-circuit. I sincerely thought that if I stayed for the whole 20 days, the only two possible outcomes were insanity or awakening. Perhaps some of both did happen, but not in the way I had imagined.
Later, I lived for several years in an environment with many westerners where Awakening was something exciting, like a pop star. Any unusual spiritual experience would do as an excuse to think one was enlightened. A little bliss, a little shaking, a little brightness in the eyes.
I love how some of my favorite Indian texts encourage us to expect deep experiences along the way. And to keep going.

Not to think that awakening is what we think it is, what we imagine it is, what we hope and fear it is, or what we can see or hear or measure.

2) Yet, at the same time, Awakening is a clear end -- of distortions of the mind and being. We cannot imagine it, yet it is real, precise, and possible. Freedom from our own ideas, as the Tao Te Ching says. And also: freedom from the ideas of others, from biology, from collective forces....

And then what is left?
Bright, ordinary, fresh, carefree.
A brightness that has its own fuel.
An ordinariness that is unstoppable, dignified power and skill.
A freshness that is familiar, ancient, shocking, clearing.
Carefree heart that cares without holding back.