Dear ,
I hope you are well, and a slightly belated happy new year to you!
The last month has passed in a
bit of a blur for me, mainly because I'm deeply immersed in my new book The Leap. I’ve been writing it very quickly and a little obsessively - I only have two or three chapters to go now. I often get like this with writing books - it takes a long time for me to get in them, but once I’m in, I stay immersed in them until they’re finished. And once I am in immersed in a book, it’s amazing how it can evolve - new insights emerge, and the whole form seems to naturally take shape, as it has a life of
its own. It can be quite invigorating - and sometimes a little overwhelming, as so much creative material comes through with almost too much force. But the book is turning out very well - better than I expected. It’s a synthesis and summary of every insight and idea I’ve had into spiritual awakening. It may be a bit too long for my publisher though (not that I’ve got one yet) - I think it’s going to be almost as long as The Fall, which was about 400 pages of normal
print.
One of the ideas I've developed in my new book is that wakefulness means a shift into a different ‘self-system.’ Our being is an expansive space, full of energetic radiance - it’s an influx of the radiant all-pervading energy of the universe itself. But within that space, in a small area - like a small town in the middle of a vast open landscape - is our self-system.
Our normal self-system believes that it’s separate from the rest of the landscape. It has built walls around itself, like a Roman city. It sees itself as an independent, self-enclosed entity. Its most dominant feature is the ego, which is the centre of our identity. In terms of our analogy, you could see the ego as the emperor who lives right in the centre of the city, with his palaces and government buildings and so forth. The ego generates a constant stream of thoughts
and associations - almost as if the emperor is slightly mad and constantly chatters away to himself. Because it is so powerful and so active, the ego uses up most of the energy of our self-system, in the same way that an absolutist king uses up most of the resources of his kingdom.
The wakeful state has a kind of self-system too, but a very different one. (I don’t believe that wakefulness equates to a literal state of no-self, as some
people believe.) Continuing with our analogy, in the wakeful state there is a a kind of town (or settlement) within the landscape, but it’s a much smaller and more unobtrusive one. There is little (if any) sense of separation between it and the landscape. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell where it ends and the landscape begins. As a result, it can always feel the energy of our expanded being (or spirit). That radiant spiritual energy - with its natural quality of well-being - fills it, so that it
always feel a sense of energetic well-being.
There is also very little sense of separation between this settlement and the space above it. It senses that it is part of the universe, that the essence of its own being is also the essence of the universe. There is an organising centre with a sense of identity, but again, it’s much more unobtrusive. It’s not a king, so much as a simple administrator or executor, who simply does what has to
be done without claiming any authority. This identity is much weaker and much less active, without the constant chattering of the normal ego. As a result, it doesn’t use up anywhere near as much energy.
Wakefulness can be seen as a shift from the normal self-system to this other self, which is so unobtrusive, subtle and unboundaried that one might not even sense that it is there at all. Russel Williams on Conscious TV
You may remember that last autumn the book I edited of Russel William’s life and teachings
as published, as Not I, Not Other than I. It’s had a fantastic response, as I was confident it would - Russel has led an amazing life, and his teachings are powerful and profound and unlike any other spiritual teachings, partly because they’re completely free of any pre-existing traditions, and aren't couched in the terminology of any particular path or practice.
A few weeks Iain and Renate McNay from Conscious TV came up to Manchester to film an interview with Russel. The interview turned out very well - I was sitting on the sofa just out of the camera, and it was wonderful to watch it first hand. Russel has a purity and integrity which is rare even amongst spiritual teachers. You can watch it here:
Upcoming Events
On April 4th, I’m taking part in a
dialogue/conversation with the American spiritual teacher (and ex-Franciscan monk Francis Bennett) in London. We’re going to be talking about the meaning and the characteristics of spiritual awakening. Francis is a very interesting guy, with a refreshingly new take on non-dual teachings. You can book for the dialogue here:
I have a weekend workshop at the Omega Institute in New York State, in August.This is already available to book on:
If you haven’t been there before, the Omega Institute is an oasis, one of the
most beautiful retreats on earth, so it’s definitely to be recommended.
New Poetic Piece - The Wave
Occasionally in the midst of writing my new book, I break off to write a poetic piece or two. Last week I broke
off to write this piece, entitled ‘The Wave.’ It’s a new style of writing for me, a fable-like form and tone which I’ve never attempted before. I hope you like it - let me know what you think!
The Wave
The sea sighed
with pleasure
as the wind caressed and stroked her
and then the wave was born.
The wave came from the sea
and was always a part of the sea.
But soon after he was created
he watched himself, as he began to rise
saw his own smooth and
graceful motion,
the perfect arc of his forward roll,
the beautiful bubbling foam which sprayed around him
and fell in love with himself.
He started to believe that he was his own master
that it was his own strength that was propelling him
that he was directing his own flow
and could change direction if he wanted.
The wave forgot the ocean, and saw himself as separate -
a self-sufficient, sealess wave
who felt proud of his power, exhilarated by his autonomy
as he rolled faster and rose higher.
But then he looked around, and saw the other waves
who had already peaked and crashed
and were beginning
to dip and to disperse
and the others who were already dissolving, disappearing.
He felt alone, as he sensed the empty space around him,
the distance between him and them.
And he felt afraid, realising that his form was temporary
that his speed and power would ebb away
and soon he would dissolve and disappear as well.
The wave resisted and rebelled
-
he tried to build up more momentum, to collect more water,
to roll more smoothly, to foam more spectacularly
to make himself so powerful that he could never dissolve away
to make his form so perfect that he could escape decay.
But soon the wave realised he had no choice
that he had less control than he thought, less strength than he
thought
that he couldn’t interfere with the forces that had made him
and the natural laws that shaped the process of his life.
So he stopped grasping and pushing
and felt the relief of letting go
and the freedom of no longer trying.
And after the majestic foaming rush, the glorious crescendo of his breaking
he gave himself up to his ebbing, fading
flow
to the ease of his descent
and was filled with the joy of acceptance.
He allowed his boundaries to soften
and felt his connection to every other wave
then his oneness with the whole of the sea
and then he felt the vastness of the sea
within his own being, then as his own being.
And then the wave dipped, slowed down and began to dissipate,
and then quietly and serenely, without any fear or resistance
he gave himself to the tide, and became the sea again
knowing that he had never been anything else. Morning Yoga Finally, I wanted to share
this picture with you. I do yoga three or four times a week, in the morning, and last Sunday my young son Bill decided to join. Here he is, showing his flexibility and cheekiness:
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