The Truth About The Truth

The spiritual mind and the rational mind give themselves far too much credit, as if they are wizards that can make thoughts and feelings disappear. “Don’t judge others.” “Don’t get angry.” “Don’t allow hate in your heart.” Eros knows it’s all sleight of hand. These are simple human experiences and trying to prevent their arising would be like the mind telling you “Don’t be human.”

While not necessarily pleasurable, these experiences exist for a reason—to provide us with information that we may follow home to the source, so that we may know ourselves and our unique configuration. And, once we have learned that, the information our mind had previously judged and kept separate can be integrated, allowing us to become more whole.  

One of the most damaging words the spiritual domain has contributed to consciousness is the word “don’t,” and by extension, “do.” It’s not that having unbridled permission for everything is good; it’s that having awareness is essential. The reflexive instruction “don’t” only places a blanket over our interior experience. “Don’t” may influence the actions we take but has no bearing on the desire itself. In cloaking the desire, we inhibit our capacity to perceive it. Now it is driven underground. 

At best, we wind up with spiritual conformity. At worst, we wind up with habitual behaviors operating of their own accord, without a driver. This is not to say wanton impulsivity should be employed universally but it is to say that what we’ve been told is ultimately beneficial is not necessarily so. 

The command to “not” do or be something robs us of the knowledge of who we are, how we operate, and what is happening in our internal landscape. It also turns us into internal con artists, constantly trying to convince ourselves that we feel or think something other than what we feel or think. We lead ourselves to believe we have a lot more power than we do, and fail to honor that which is naturally arising. We become tyrants in our minds and hearts, rather than allies and confidantes. No wonder it is challenging to inhabit our body—that is where our heart exists. Keeping the natural ordered according to the unnatural is a lot of work. So what are we to do when an offending thought or feeling arises?

Eros does not pretend to know what is right or wrong in every situation for every person. It does not offer wholesale directives. Instead, it suggests that power lies in wisdom, and true wisdom only happens when we listen. We often confuse knowledge and wisdom, assuming what we have learned from similar, previous experiences should map perfectly onto our current experiences. It’s a radical premise that individual humans, bolstered by the self-wisdom of who they are and how their interior world operates, will live to a higher standard of ethics than those who follow paternal, moralized instruction without deviation. To trust this premise, we would first have to dissolve the belief that at our core is something inherently evil and replace it with the conviction that at our core is life itself, of which we are a part.

But courage is required to step into the unknown. We would have to come into Erotic adulthood, brave enough in the dark that we are willing to look and see what is there. All the books, canons, and people in the world could describe it to us in graphic detail, but it is not until we take the risk and venture in for ourselves that we will truly know. 

We are not looking to merely discover the result of adulthood; we are choosing the process of evolution. Beyond mere acceptance, adulthood is rooted in the capacity to be cultivated as a means of penetrating ourselves in order to reveal difficult truths. We willingly penetrate to deeper and deeper levels until the fear of what lurks in the depths of our soul no longer rules over us.

In Eros, we begin with an open mind. We open to all possibilities. We want to know directly. We face all the various possibilities which may or may not be true. At our core, there may be darkness or sin. It may be that we are inherently bad or unkind. It may be that we are beyond redemption. It may be we have some dark desire lurking. It may be we are love and light. It may be we are divinity. It may be we are emptiness. But we will not know without investigating for ourselves.  

The admission is that we cannot possibly know until we enter for ourselves and explore; this is the price of self-possession. Until then, we must rely on external sources to tell us who we are and our ultimate task for this life. But if we do, then we might live an entire life based on an inaccurate perception. We could be good, holy, or righteous pure potential but without diving beneath what we would hide under a blanket, we will never fulfill the purpose of realizing who we are. 

The judging mind seeks to dismiss or diminish certain aspects of ourselves, and overinflates others. To see ourselves clearly, we seek to see each arising as vital and important information with the potential to lead us back to a source. Where did this emanate from? Not seeing these things as “poison” or “sin” but as information. When we feel hatred, we can allow ourselves to really feel it, to know its textures and tastes. We can let it guide us home, to show us why it is there and what, if anything, it has to offer, without any preconceived notions about it. We can have the humility to inquire, and to listen to the judgment and feel the pettiness beneath it. But then we can also sit with it and see what it wants to show us.

Then we can say, “What if?” What if the truth is that we are petty or hateful? And we canbe with that possibility, not in the context of right or wrong, but simply as a quality that exists in us. It might actually be a relief to finally allow ourselves to feel it or admit it. It might be fun and interesting. There may be gold hidden within this newly uncovered aspect of ourselves. It may reveal itself to be very valuable for the character we are to play in this life. 

As we come into a more whole connection with ourselves, we are able to have a more complete connection with others. When we no longer have to block anything, a new level of honesty can arise. We may discover that honest hatred feels more alive and intimate than all of the performative kindness and compassion we could offer. We may discover that within that feeling of hatred is the power to say a truth that we otherwise could not have and that truth wakes someone up or has them respond in a way that has us understand more, feel more, and know more. The goal is not to maintain the veneer of niceness. The goal of Eros is honest connection—with ourselves and the world. 

We may discover that the feeling and the expression of this feeling unfreezes something that had been stuck, allowing it to become dynamic and alive. Instead of controlling and subduing the feeling or emotion or aspect of ourselves that we had once disowned, we give it permission to express itself and in the heat of its expression, it transforms oddly into love or passion. Or, we may discover it leads us into greater depths, where there is heartbreak and shame. It may get dark and darker. We do not know. But, if we keep following it, we can know. As we follow through the various twists and turns, we can learn how it works, how to be with it, why it is inside of us. 

What prevents us from taking the first step onto this path is the root fear that at our core may be, in fact, darkness. 

If we want to go further, if we want to truly discover what is there, we will need to confront this possibility. Eros does not tell us what we will find, only that we will experience and we will learn. In the world of Eros, it is better to know than not know. But this is a personal decision and there is the option to turn back to re-establish an identity on safer grounds.

From The Eros Sutras, Volume 1