It’s obviously been a while since I've written anything here.  Almost two years, I think.  At that time I talked about “living in translation.”  Translation is about making sure that you are an egoicly healthy person who is functional in the world.  A healthy ego, to me, is when you are aware (or at least attempting to be aware) of your shadow elements and you are engaged in some practice or therapy to address issues from your past- anything from psychotherapy or journaling.

 

Some people believe that translation is a waste of time.  It is argued that we enforce the narcissistic tendencies of the ego by indulging in self “victimization.”  I think that there is some truth to this claim.  In my own experience, I reached a point of seemingly endless processing and mulling over of past grievances.  I think that what was once healing became a sort of closed-loop ego trap.  I was digging up endless “issues,” feeling a bit better, but then looking for new ones.   I think that this kind of endless processing is a hallmark of narcissism. 

 

That said, I would also add that there is a certain momentum gained by going back and settling old debts (emotionally speaking).  There is obviously a healthy version of personal work and I think that most people would agree that there could be things from our past that need dealing with.  I suppose it’s up to people to decide for themselves how far they actually want to go with it.  And with this momentum gained by doing some personal work, I think that it’s possible to get a bit of a boost into beginning a transformation.  

 

I just got back from a retreat with Andrew Cohen last week.  Andrew is, obviously, a master of transformation.  Transformation, to me, means actually transcending your own egoic tendencies.  By transcending I am specifically talking about dis-identifying with thoughts/emotions/feelings that were once believed to be a part of who we were.  By constantly turning subject into object, we literally transform our idea of “I.”  Since the retreat, this dis-identification has been occuring with surprising frequency.  I realize that I am far from stabilizing a 24/7 non-relationship to thought and feeling – but I never imagined that, with a little effort, it would start to happen so quickly!   

 

Because I have been seeing such a quick transformation, I have to conclude that at some point, transformation must be placed ahead of translation.  The power of the former far surpasses the small glimpses of truth provided by the latter.   BUT ironically, I do not think that I would have attended the retreat had I not been engaged in self-translation.  I needed the momentum and I needed the goal setting and I needed the emotional angst to push me beyond what I was comfortable with.  So, for now, after good dose of translation, the name of the game is definitely transformation. 

 

I’m doing my best to become functional in the world around me. I’ve spent the last few years being a fluffy spiritual type, but the result has been less than effective. Along the way, I’ve had the odd peak experience, and I’ve come to appreciate the present moment in a much deeper way. But in another sense, being focused on my spiritual aspirations really put a strangle hold on growth in other parts of my life. At present, the game I am playing has more to do with translation than transcendence. Translation is learning more about where I am now. For me it is really about getting involved in the world around me, and feeling through the many textures that surround us. Also, the past six months have shown me my shadow; and dealing with that perspective-shattering journey has been fantastic. Translation for me is getting physically fit, making new friends, and getting good at living in the world of form (as opposed to not “overstressing” my body, admonishing people for their “ignorance,” and rejecting the world for it’s “capitalist” nature, which I did before). It could be said that I’m avoiding the Truth. In fact, I know that translation will only offer so much consolation before Spirit cries out once more. But, for now at least, I feel I am facing an aspect of myself that many “spiritual” types may deny (at least I can see now that I was denying it). The part that likes to play, and yell, and get angry sometimes. The part of me that enjoys a beer with friends and loves the taste of steak. In the past I have really gotten caught up with being “spiritual”. I felt that it was bad to feel angry, or jealous, or any emotion that wasn’t “coming from my highest self.” But I’m starting to understand that getting comfortable with these emotions, and learning to use them to my benefit, doesn’t make me an asshole. It helps me to reconcile parts of myself that I wasn’t comfortable with. Repressed parts that were preventing me from developing further because I had not dealt with them adequately. For a few years I accomplished barely anything. I felt like the world around me was so “out of tune’ with itself that I couldn’t (and didn’t want to) participate. I couldn’t allow myself to get involved with anything because I didn’t agree with a lot of what was going on (an example for me was my hatred for all those “evil corporations”). Luckily for me, a friend had been noticing a similar trend. Many in his circle, he noticed, that were on the path, were actually just wasting away. Sinking in a well of uber spirituality. He described his friends as intelligent, caring people, who put their spiritual development above all else (a truly brave aspiration, I might add.) But, as he pointed out, and I saw in myself, we seemed to not really be doing anything. I think that “spiritual life” can be a cop-out. A common move (one I've been guilty of myself) is one of – “if it’s not hoity-toity and lovey-dovey, or if it’s clouding my aura, then I’m not going to do it.” And so as a result one sees very few, well, results. I can have an apartment filled with statues of Buddha, be a vegetarian, and recite poems by Rumi. But maybe I’m in a dead end job, I have the masculinity of a pixie, and nobody outside of my yoga group takes me very seriously. And the aforementioned situation doesn’t really offer much to the world at large, I’m affraid. A few middle-aged adults have told me how lucky I am to have found meditation and spiritual aspirations at such a young age. And I know that there are thousands of other 20 something’s just like me. Young people who are drawn within and who crave liberation from the contraction of our minds. But I would argue that this “gift” of ours, an early spiritual inclination, could be fraught with conflicts. If a young person begins the search early, do we skip over the development of important parts of our frontal personality? You see, at an early age I (like others) have been forced to reconcile the differences between a search for Spirit, and an interest in a world I know very little about. I carried the belief that in order to be “spiritual” I had to live in the mountains, or be meditating for two hours per day or more. And yet at the same time I really wanted to explore this world of form. I wanted to learn about the world I live in, to get a job I enjoy, and to have a family. The call to Spirit (transcendence) had me fighting the call to figure-out my new world (translation). And so, I sat spinning my wheels in one spot. Not quite finding the Spirit I was seeking, and not quite living the life I imagined. The result was a troubled young man, who was confused and slowly growing bitter. This story has a happy ending though. As I mentioned, I’ve since shifted my focus to translating the world around me, instead of trying to leap right over it. And without going into too much detail, generally speaking my frontal personality feels much healthier. And in a smooth of stroke of irony, my meditation practice has deepened as well. And so, I offer this post as a glimpse into my present world. I hope that it will serve as a nice introduction for whomever may read it. from The Essential Ken Wilber: .... “With translation, the self is simply given a new way to think or feel about reality. The self is given a new belief -- perhaps holistic instead of atomistic, perhaps forgiveness instead of blame, perhaps relational instead of analytic. The self then learns to translate its world and it’s being in the terms of this new belief or new language or new paradigm, and this new and enchanting translation acts, at least temporarily, to alleviate or diminish the terror inherent in the heart of the separate self. But with transformation, the very process of translation itself is challenged, witnessed, undermined, and eventually dismantled. ... And as much as we, as you and I, might wish to transcend mere translation and find authentic transformation, nonetheless translation itself is an absolutely necessary and crucial function for the greater part of our lives. Those who cannot translate adequately, with a fair amount of integrity and accuracy, fall quickly into severe neurosis or even psychosis: the world ceases to make sense -- the boundaries between the self and the world are not transcended but instead begin to crumble. This is not breakthrough but breakdown; not transcendence but disaster. But at some point in our maturation process, translation itself, no matter how adequate or confident, simply ceases to console. No new beliefs, no new paradigm, no new myths, no new ideas, will staunch the encroaching anguish. Not a new belief for the self, but the transcendence of the self-altogether, is the only path that avails.”