I have often been suspicious of the power of subjugation that can be exercised by the man, the woman who masters the art of speaking, who unfurls laryngeal flexibility, tknow how to impact with the decisive glottal stop.
A mind short of autonomy is actually waiting for nothing else.
A few drops of ego, barely, and one holds such power it in the palm of one’s hand.
This power is insidiously addictive and most often drowned in deadly denial.
What an acute consciousness does one need to manifest to be a Master!
Often merely casting fake pearls before numb swine.
I one led practice sessions for a little while and made this observation of lack of autonomy, and was surprised by the power dynamics that are set up on their own once someone starts speaking in front of a group of listeners.
People ask for something, then force silence to speak.
This is why silence is silent. What’s the point, then ?
Today, I co-host hybrid sessions, where a façade of verbal exchanges serves as an alibi to practice for people who do not feel capable of pure sitting.
The transformations in these people over the weeks often surprise me.
Under the carpet of words, what operates operates.
This is the teaching of my master.
As I am now about to move to an other area, I leave the community of practitioners and will now be able to experience the solidity of my ardor, my bodhicitta, without the struts of a dojo practicing schedule, without the requirement of awaiting eyes.
You alone, facing the steamroller of life, what will happen to your practice ?
I think that this nudity, this crossing off the beaten paths, without companions, I fear it as much as I expect it.
The real encounter is this way.
However, I already know this well.