Spiritual Vigilance:
Give It a Rest - Jan Frazier
http://janfrazierteachings.com/teachings/
Conscious awareness is
often confused with vigilance,
an enforced self-observation
having the goal of catching
oneself at something
Òunspiritual,Ó so a correction
can be made. Growing ever more
aware of mental (and
emotional) trouble-making,
some seekers adopt this kind
of vigilance, supposing itÕs a
good thing. ThereÕs an
intention to be less
judgmental and resisting, to
be alert to the starting up of
a story in the head. To exert
control over the inner life.
An underlying
assumption is that to drop
oneÕs guard is to invite
unconsciousness to take over,
to become overtaken by story,
belief, judgment, denial.
Which means becoming lost in
circular thought patterns,
consumed by uncomfortable
emotions.
This orientation to the
interior introduces a subtle
exertion, the never-resting
machine of self-measuring, of
holding self to a standard.
The fuel of the machine is an
underlying idea of the ÒrightÓ
(and wrong) way to be, if one
is to move ever closer to
awakening. There is effort involved, a straining to
exert control. To force
change.
ItÕs a colossal waste
of effort.
WhatÕs important to see
is this: the one engaged in
this vigilance is the very ego
thatÕs in the way of
awakening. What, after all, is
it to awaken, but to realize
you never were your ÒimperfectÓ self?
Yes, it is the ego,
dressed in spiritual clothing.
This is the one that thinks
thereÕs a problem in the first
place Ð above all, a problem
with Òme,Ó hoping to do
better, all the way to
enlightenment.
To practice the
exhausting rigorous
self-examination, with an eye
to doing better, is to
reinforce the seeming reality
of the self that seems capable
of awakening.
The one engaged in
this vigilance is the very
ego thatÕs in the way of
awakening.
That self is not going
to wake up. If awakening
blessedly occurs, it will be
because something occurred to
cause you to realize, in a
bodied way, that you
are not that self. All the ego knows to do is
judge, fail, improve, living
in an idea of a future in
which it will finally have
become free of itself.
To attempt to Òget
thereÓ via spiritual vigilance
(however well-meaning the
effort ) is to give the ego a
role in dismantling itself. As
if it would willingly
participate in its own demise.
ThereÕs another way to
orient to the inner life, a
fruitful way that involves no
strain. ItÕs to rest in
awareness itself. Conscious
awareness allows for complete
transparency, the willingness
to see whatever is there. It
occurs naturally, without
tension or movement of any
sort. The mind is not engaged.
The ego is not stirred to
action.
How profoundly restful
it is. How illuminating of the
ways in which the ego-mind
keeps convincing you itÕs what
you really are. There is no
judgment of whatÕs seen, no
attempt to change anything, no
intention to do better next
time.
YouÕre thinking Okay,
how do I do that?
For starters, you stop
mistaking vigilance for
conscious awareness. When the
habitual self-improvement
machinery tries to start up,
you notice it for what it is
and decline to indulge it. As
soon as youÕve recognized it
for what it is, youÕre already
at a little distance from it. Something in you has seen
it occurring. That
ÒsomethingÓ is awareness
itself. ThereÕs spaciousness
around the familiar habit. See
if you can Òback upÓ to sense
the larger space around it.
(When awakening occurs,
whatÕs happened is that youÕve
come to know you
are that space, NOT
everything thatÕs been
happening ÒinÓ it.)
But hereÕs the real
heart of the matter, the
answer to the question ÒHow
can I bring conscious
awareness to momentary life?Ó
Awareness is already a natural part of our human
endowment. It isnÕt about some
heightened spiritual state,
something granted at
awakening. Awareness ÒhappensÓ
all the time, throughout every
day we live. We constantly
notice whatÕs happening Ð in
outer life, inside ourselves.
Awareness is plain noticing, before
the mind gets hold of the
thing being noticed and makes
something of it (a story, a
problem, a reason to get lost
in the head). You notice
youÕre sleepy, or tense, or
hungry, or afraid. You notice
a sound in the distance, a car
coming into your driveway, an
expression on someoneÕs face.
You notice it feels good at
the end of a taxing day. This
is a bodied sort of awareness,
primarily sensory. Something
registers in the body. Yes,
the mind generally rushes in
fast and starts labeling
whatÕs been seen, deciding
itÕs a problem, starved to
make a story about it. But
awareness Ð that bodied
ÒregisteringÓ of a thing Ð
happens first.
ItÕs just that mostly
we donÕt consciously notice
awareness Òhappening.Ó
Typically, weÕre aware but not conscious of
being aware. This is primarily
because we hurry into the mind
with whateverÕs been tuned
into. Awareness so swiftly
yields to mental handling that
we almost never linger in
those primary impressions, in
whatever the attuned body has
detected is happening inside
or out.
ItÕs crucial that you
not confuse conscious
awareness with ordinary
thought. Awareness is just
seeing. It can see, for
example, that thought is
occurring. It can see that
youÕre feeling anxious. But
awareness doesnÕt experience (or bring about) anxiety.
Whereas thinking involves
movement (and all manner of
trouble), awareness itself is
entirely still. Peaceful.
Unlike thought, itÕs
untroubled by whatever it sees
(even if whatÕs being seen
appears less than wonderful to
the egoic mind).
DonÕt expect this to be
automatic, to tease these
things apart. WeÕre not
accustomed to making the
distinction between thinking
and being (plainly) aware. Be
patient in this exploration.
ItÕs not immediately obvious
that thereÕs a difference
between plain awareness and
mental processing. But do
devote yourself to the
exploration of the two, the
qualities of each, in your
everyday experience. Notice
how in a given moment of life,
awareness precedes mental processing. Discover
how plain awareness feels different from the way
thinking and emoting feel.
Ask yourself where each
capacity ÒlivesÓ in you. (What are Òyou,Ó
anyhow? For this is the
enduring question beneath all
the exploration.)
A thing is seen before you make something of
it (deciding itÕs a problem
needing fixing). Every single
time. When you dwell there Ð
however infrequently, however
briefly Ð whatever is seen
bears fruit. All on its own.
This is where revelation
occurs. This (not vigilance)
is the environment of
transformation.
If youÕre asking
yourself how
can I notice awareness more
of the time? realize
this is (once again) the egoic
mind posing the question Ð and
therefore not worth pursuing.
Trying to be conscious more of
the time, to be steadily in
conscious awareness, would
seem a worthy approach to the
inner life: it feels so much
better to be conscious, after
all. It locates a person in
the now. It feels alive to be
really here. Waking up from an episode of
unconsciousness, you realize
how miserable itÕs been to be
so lost in the mind and its
emotion-generating misery.
YouÕd be crazy not to try to
be conscious more of the time
. . . or so the argument goes.
Awareness is either
noticed, in a given moment of
life, or itÕs not. Among the
things weÕre not in control of
is the matter of how and when
moments of conscious awareness
occur. Give up the illusion of
control. (Talk about restful!)
But when you do notice whatÕs happening
on the interior, in a more
spacious way than the usual
vigilant wish to improve, for
goodnessÕ sake pay attention.
See everything thatÕs there to
see, for as long as the
awareness sustains. (You
cannot Òmake it last.Ó Rest
from that attempt too.)
A moment of
unconsciousness Ð or of
consciousness Ð comes all
on its own. You
did not ÒcauseÓ either. Trying
to be conscious, or lamenting
the repeated lapses,
accomplishes nothing. Just
welcome an episode of
consciousness when it does
come, however briefly. Just be
there. Be glad of it. Look
around.
The vigilant
seeker-self means to Òcatch
yourselfÓ at thinking, at
attachment, story-making,
being lost in belief. At
denial, avoidance. A thousand
ordinary human twists and
turns. The thing is, when one
of those is occurring, itÕs
already happening. See it! Just see it. You
cannot undo it. You didnÕt
cause it, and you canÕt
prevent its next occurrence.
But you can . . . when awareness
remembers itself . . . observe
it. You can see deeply into
what itÕs about.
ThatÕs all that needs
to take place. So simple,
really. And vastly more
restful than the other way.
Not to mention likely to yield
liberating insights.
Vigilance is
exhausting, useless, and
reinforcing of a multitude of
delusions: that you can
control (improve) yourself;
that the ÒyouÓ being vigilant
is real; that the problem has
to do with what goes on inside
you, rather than the problem
being what feels like you in the first place.
So restful.
Why bother even paying
attention to whatÕs seen in
the light of clear awareness?
WhatÕs the point, if not to
set about trying to change
anything (which has been the
focus of all the vigilance)?
ItÕs simply to enable you to
become more deeply acquainted
with what you are not. To come to understand how the
whole thing keeps itself
going, entrancing you in its
seeming reality. So you can
stop assuming its impulses are
worthy of any attention. All
of this leading you to the
enduring, fruitful question What am I, really?
What becomes ever more
clear is this: the one thatÕs
doing this seeing is what you
really are.
When awareness is the
guiding light of inquiry, in
favor of vigilance, you donÕt
walk around with a
preconceived idea of a ÒgoodÓ
way to be. No scrutinizing eye
is running over the inner
landscape. Just a spacious,
relaxed noticing of whateverÕs
happening inside. Something
happens and itÕs seen. ItÕs
neither anguished over nor
pushed away. It feels a
certain way in the body. That
too is observed. ThereÕs no
attempt to vanquish the thing,
to wrestle it to the ground.
No strain to replace a
negative thought with a
positive one, to Òrise aboveÓ
whatever is happening.
Awareness itself has
never experienced
mental/emotional movement. Not
once in its uncomplicated
life. Imagine that. (This is
bewildering at first, because
we mistake awareness for
thinking. Explore that
assumption.)
A person (even a
ÒspiritualÓ person) is not a
self-improvement project, an
imperfect being needing
whipping into shape by the
internal task-master, on the
way to enlightenment. Give it
a rest. See what happens when
you relax into spacious
awareness.
- Jan Frazier
Copyright © 2017 á
Jan Frazier Teachings