fter all we had seen and heard during that meditation, there was something to seriously think about, especially for me
on the verge of death. “God, these are the answers to my questions, which I have been looking for for so long. Is it possible that this formula of achieving immortality is so simple? Control your thoughts, believe and love. Is it possible that I will reach a saving shore, an edge of eternity from which the immortals already observe life, all those who have recognized themselves and their divine nature?! Is it possible that my “I” will be able to break loose from death’s grip? Even if I don’t have time to “re-conquer” my body, I will still be able to become free, and at least I will be prepared to meet with the unknown.” Such thoughts raised in me an unusual inspiration and a burst of internal power. I decided not to lay aside things for tomorrow but to start working immediately, right now. Because who knows what tomorrow will bring for me.
First I tried to examine my thoughts. But I felt so enthusiastic and inspired that I was unable to stop at something specific, as all my material thoughts suddenly disappeared under such a force. Then I started to investigate my feelings. Only now did I notice that I was so absorbed with my internal feelings that I started to look completely differently at even the outside world. This was some kind of a new vision, an unknown point of view for me on the old and, as they say, shabby problems.
A new vision surrounded me from all sides, like a cocoon, seizing my consciousness away from grey, everyday commonness with its trivial worries. I had the impression as if I existed by myself and the rest of the world by itself. Moreover, I observed for the first time the workings of my body from the outside. It was making its usual movements, as if it were on autopilot: it came home mechanically, took a shower mechanically, ate mechanically, and went mechanically into its separate corner, that is into the room. The real “I” at that time was observing it and thinking about its salvation. This small discovery shocked me. I found out that there is a true “I” in me and a kind of physical autopilot.
But the further the better. Once again having restored the conversation with Sensei to my thoughts, I recalled his words: “Have you ever thought how you move in space and who moves your extremities?” Examining myself from a new point of view, I reflected, “And really, who moves my extremities: the “I” or the autopilot?”
I looked at my open palm and decided to conduct a simple experiment. I thought, “I need to clench and undo my fist,” and my hand obediently executed it. “And now I am not going to move my fingers.” But this time, a wild thought flashed across my mind, “I’m still going to clench my fist.” My fingers, under the influence of this “order,” gripped and released again. “Oh!” I was surprised. “And who was that thinking in me? Who is there playing boss in my thoughts?!” Gathering myself up again this time, I was more persistent and concentrated my thoughts: “I won’t move my fingers. That’s what I want, and let it be so.” Strangely enough, my hand didn’t even move, and this wild, mad thought pretended to have never existed in my mind.
“Oho!” I was surprised even more. “It means that when I was relaxed in my thoughts, this someone started to invisibly manage my consciousness and my body by his will. And when I strictly control a thought, he disappears somewhere without a trace. Gosh!” Nevertheless, I was so happy to find out this fact, it was as if I had traced a spy thoroughly camouflaged for many years in my most secret department. “Yes, this clever boy is much more dangerous than that stupid autopilot. I should be more vigilant!”
It’s easy to say but hard to do. When I started to practice meditations, I understood that this dodger visited my thoughts all the time in the moment of relaxation, and especially during concentration on meditation, constantly diverting my attention on outside matters. He carried it all out in such a clever and logical way that I didn’t notice when I went off track in concentration. But when I concentrated my thoughts on meditation deeply and clearly, the dodger disappeared. But I needed only to weaken control and he would appear again. “What a skunk! Impudent and bothersome,” I thought, trying once again to concentrate on meditation. When I finished a meditation, I understood that it was not easy to fight with my number one enemy. “I will need to ask Sensei how to find justice for this dodger,” I thought, falling asleep. “Otherwise he is going to spoil everything for me.”
The next morning, when my splash of emotions had faded away a little after yesterday, I began again to observe myself from outside. Once again, my body somehow came off the warm bed and started to mechanically perform its morning ritual, getting ready for school. My mind, as it seemed to me, was sweetly sleeping, and that’s why I didn’t feel like thinking about anything. Walking the usual road to school through the city square, I was enjoying the surrounding stillness, the morning freshness, the rustling of fallen leaves. I really liked this state of peace. My mind slept, my body walked in a given direction, while I just felt well and cozy inside of myself. I felt that this was my true “I”.
But in school, the situation changed immediately. I flew into a tornado of events, information, emotions. As a result, I was completely confused about the nature of my thoughts because they came in a continuous torrent, and it was hard to sort out them, what was mine and what was foreign. And the whole day passed in this wild rhythm.
