The First Fetter
My Experiences
My approach to seeing through the illusion of a separate self was a gradual one. For many years, I studied Buddhist teachings, meditated, and otherwise laid the groundwork for what I hoped would be an eventual breakthrough. However, at some point I realized that the practices I had been given were primarily conceptual in nature. They allowed me to see why there couldn’t be a self by reflecting on impermanence, but such practices were not effective in allowing me to conclusively see that there wasn’t a self. In retrospect, it didn’t help that the stated intent of the practices was to fully see and realize the concept of impermanence, and to affirm an impermanent self, which led me in a completely wrong direction.
One day I decided to focus on emptiness rather than impermanence, and I looked at my experience from that perspective. What had been my “mind” suddenly opened out into a vast expanse of space, as if I had pushed a long-forgotten button to a secret passage. I learned later that I had stumbled upon Mahamudra practice, and engaged with that practice for 2-3 years. Watching how my experience was composed of transient thoughts and images, dependent on what my mind and physical senses were delivering, was very valuable. I realized the empty nature of mind, but there was still a strong sense of a self as an observer whose mind was empty. If I searched for a "me", I would get a strange knot in my stomach, and experience waves of electric energy that could literally make me shake and quiver, as if whatever was there did not want to be disturbed. I realized I was afraid of letting go of the self: if I did, what would remain?
I eventually came across the Buddhist teachings on the so-called “formless spheres”, which are concerned with some of the deepest meditative states we can enter into. While the practices led to some very fascinating states of consciousness, no shift concerning the “self” occurred; after meditation, I would simply go back to more or less the same sort of experience as before I sat down. I eventually “got into” the so-called empty abiding, in which the mind is so quiet that there is literally nothing happening: no thoughts or even images, even though one is still awake and alert. And yet, as profound as that might be on paper, and as profound as it in fact felt, there still wasn’t any change in how I regarded “myself” once back in everyday experience.
One day while in the depths of the empty abiding on a solitary meditation retreat, it was stable enough that it occurred to me to simply look for the separate self or ego that seemed like it was there, since from that depth of meditation there was essentially nowhere for it to hide. After looking everywhere for the self for quite some time, and/but clearly not finding anything, something shifted. I stood up, and immediately realized that something was missing, or better yet, someone was missing. There were no fireworks or anything: the belief in the separate self had simply evaporated by decisively seeing that there really was no such thing. It had merely been a very convincing illusion. It was quite unexpected, but it was also quite clear and not at all unsettling.
The next few days were spent alone, allowing what had happened to sink in. Fortunately, I had some Buddhist texts available to me, and I managed to find some references to a list called the “fetters”. I was able to recognize what the first three fetters were and that I had indeed “broken” them. I also noted that the next two fetters, “desire and ill will”, were next.
Thus, during my next meditation sit, I decided to look for whether desire and/or ill will were actually there. Suffice it to say that, when I closed my eyes and started to introspectively look, it seemed like they were EVERYWHERE. I was really shocked and humbled, though not necessarily surprised, by what had been lurking underneath the thin veneer of the “self”. It was clear that this was the next area to tackle, if and when it seemed like time to move on to the next step.
I decided to let several weeks go by to see if I still came to the same conclusion, and it was as clear as the day it occurred: there simply is no such thing as a “self” that goes by the Name “Kevin”. In fact, there never had been: it was simply a convincing illusion.
As many people experience, during the first several weeks there was something of a “honeymoon period” in which I didn’t feel the palpable levels of frustration, desire, fear, tenseness, resistance and other forms of reactivity that I had always struggled with. Life seemed to just flow, and I wasn’t so concerned about what might or might not happen next. I did things because they needed to be done, rather than because “I” wanted them done. However, the honeymoon was soon over, and as the reactivity started to return, I knew it was time to explore what the next step might be.
One day I decided to focus on emptiness rather than impermanence, and I looked at my experience from that perspective. What had been my “mind” suddenly opened out into a vast expanse of space, as if I had pushed a long-forgotten button to a secret passage. I learned later that I had stumbled upon Mahamudra practice, and engaged with that practice for 2-3 years. Watching how my experience was composed of transient thoughts and images, dependent on what my mind and physical senses were delivering, was very valuable. I realized the empty nature of mind, but there was still a strong sense of a self as an observer whose mind was empty. If I searched for a "me", I would get a strange knot in my stomach, and experience waves of electric energy that could literally make me shake and quiver, as if whatever was there did not want to be disturbed. I realized I was afraid of letting go of the self: if I did, what would remain?
I eventually came across the Buddhist teachings on the so-called “formless spheres”, which are concerned with some of the deepest meditative states we can enter into. While the practices led to some very fascinating states of consciousness, no shift concerning the “self” occurred; after meditation, I would simply go back to more or less the same sort of experience as before I sat down. I eventually “got into” the so-called empty abiding, in which the mind is so quiet that there is literally nothing happening: no thoughts or even images, even though one is still awake and alert. And yet, as profound as that might be on paper, and as profound as it in fact felt, there still wasn’t any change in how I regarded “myself” once back in everyday experience.
One day while in the depths of the empty abiding on a solitary meditation retreat, it was stable enough that it occurred to me to simply look for the separate self or ego that seemed like it was there, since from that depth of meditation there was essentially nowhere for it to hide. After looking everywhere for the self for quite some time, and/but clearly not finding anything, something shifted. I stood up, and immediately realized that something was missing, or better yet, someone was missing. There were no fireworks or anything: the belief in the separate self had simply evaporated by decisively seeing that there really was no such thing. It had merely been a very convincing illusion. It was quite unexpected, but it was also quite clear and not at all unsettling.
The next few days were spent alone, allowing what had happened to sink in. Fortunately, I had some Buddhist texts available to me, and I managed to find some references to a list called the “fetters”. I was able to recognize what the first three fetters were and that I had indeed “broken” them. I also noted that the next two fetters, “desire and ill will”, were next.
Thus, during my next meditation sit, I decided to look for whether desire and/or ill will were actually there. Suffice it to say that, when I closed my eyes and started to introspectively look, it seemed like they were EVERYWHERE. I was really shocked and humbled, though not necessarily surprised, by what had been lurking underneath the thin veneer of the “self”. It was clear that this was the next area to tackle, if and when it seemed like time to move on to the next step.
I decided to let several weeks go by to see if I still came to the same conclusion, and it was as clear as the day it occurred: there simply is no such thing as a “self” that goes by the Name “Kevin”. In fact, there never had been: it was simply a convincing illusion.
As many people experience, during the first several weeks there was something of a “honeymoon period” in which I didn’t feel the palpable levels of frustration, desire, fear, tenseness, resistance and other forms of reactivity that I had always struggled with. Life seemed to just flow, and I wasn’t so concerned about what might or might not happen next. I did things because they needed to be done, rather than because “I” wanted them done. However, the honeymoon was soon over, and as the reactivity started to return, I knew it was time to explore what the next step might be.