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DO YOU KNOW that you are using your spiritual teachers,
incarnate and disincarnate, to keep yourself lost and confused? Yes,
the very ones who you think, believe, and hope will lead you to the
promised land of your true self, You see your teachers in a meditation hall, a satsang room, a retreat center - where they are surrounded by the staging and setting of seeming holiness or spiritual attainment. They present themselves in their roles as "teachers," all snug and cozy in white gowns or maroon robes, with that special smile that signifies something. Surely it must! You don't know anything about them, other than what you see in these staged environments. You know them in their role; you know their persona, their facade - crafted as much by their own PR departments as your desperate need to believe someone can help you out of your confusion. You swoon willingly into the cartoon of the community of other lost souls, and listen eagerly to the teacher's every word. You never question. You don't know them. You don't want to. You want them to be "different" from you. That's how you create them. From the beginning. From the first moment you need them to be different from you. And this is how it all starts. You do it. You're making it all up.
You only ask esoteric, metaphysical, spiritual questions. You play the
game right along with everyone else. You imagine the teacher knows all
kinds of "real" and "true" things. They don't. The
poor dears, they really don't. It is only your confusion that thinks
this. In actual fact, they are only sharing their guesses and opinions.
That's all anyone can do. They don't know anything special. There isn't
anything special to know. There is only getting rid of your confusion,
and you have to do that on your own. You don't want to see behind the screen. That's why you just ask goofy and empty-headed, useless, going nowhere questions. You don't ask the teacher if they take anti-depressants to soothe the pain of a bad breakup. You don't want to know what they do with the money you so generously give. Lord, wouldn't you be pissed to know they were off in Europe on shopping sprees? You don't want to know when they are anxious, fearful, or angry. You don't want to know they may have the emotional intelligence of a three-year-old. You don't want to know that they may be psychopaths, as violent and vindictive as Hannibal Lecter. Maybe they are sweet and kind, but utterly inept and incompetent. Maybe they are so feeble they have to be carried from one room to another, or so vain they need plastic surgery. Do you want to know this? I don't think so. Because then you'd have to face the one thing you don't want to face: your own self. And that's how you create the tyranny of your teacher.
You use them to avoid seeing yourself, to avoid experiencing yourself,
to avoid expressing yourself. You want to be like the teacher you've
imagined. Most teachers are dishonest. They don't tell the truth. They tell the truth that your confusion wants to hear: a way out, a way up. Tell me about heaven. Tell me about the void. Tell me about exotic other dimensions and higher states. Don't talk to me about impeccability here and now, about personal responsibility and character, about initiative and boldness, about fierce sexuality, and cosmic roars of creative impulses. Don't talk about business and money. Don't talk about power and politics. Don't talk about anything real. Make all this disappear! Help! I'm lost and confused. Save me! Years ago in Los Angeles, I would often meet with groups of people to speak candidly about our lives, exploring deeper dimensions of our authentic selves. Some people had lumped me in with a group of people allegedly teaching vedanta. Non-duality was all the rage! One evening, after we had finished our discussions, a woman came up to me and told me she had tried to get a friend to come along. It must be almost ten years ago, but I remember exactly what she said. "Robert, when she heard you taught vedanta, she was interested in coming to hear you. But then she heard you also were a business consultant and decided not to come. She said that no one who worked in corporations could know anything about vedanta." I cracked up when I heard that! First, I never taught vedanta. I never mentioned it. I don't know anything about it, other than what I read in a few books years ago. My teacher mentioned it a few times. Also, I never talked about non-duality. Why would I? It's not something you talk about; it's a place you speak from. As an idea, its just as silly as the Easter Bunny and God. I did work as a consultant to companies. I will admit that.
How about a teacher, nurse, engineer, shopkeeper, shoe salesman, pharmacist, airline pilot, landfill manager, mathematician, veterinarian, soccer player? How about a social worker, sex therapist, horse-breeder? How about you? Can you ever be who you are, not in an idealized way, but in a real, grounded, practical embodied way? Can you? And who are you going to ask for permission? Who is going to approve of YOU? Who is going to say whether or not your desires are good or bad, right or wrong? Who is going to validate and certify your thoughts and feelings? Who is going to tell you if you're coloring in the lines, or out? Who? Who is your boss? Who is the authority you have given the glory of your life to? Oprah? Eckhart Tolle? The Dalai Lama? Deepak Chopra? Please. If for one minute you would put down your own confusion and stop suppressing who you are and what you know, you would see through the tissue-thin facade of those people and everyone else. You would see there is nothing out there but what you imagine. Sooner or later, you're going to have to come back to yourself.
The real you. The one that wants what it wants. The one that speaks
truthfully. The one that acts ferociously. The one that only you can
be. There is no realization apart from this; no realization apart from
you being what you are, Tag. You're it. Now, let it rip! © Robert Rabbin, 2009
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