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Tag: choiceless awareness (page 1 of 1)

a choice illusion

For the longest time I have been fascinated by the idea (illusion?) of choice. There have been more than a few “big events” in my life that came through very effortlessly. Meaning, no thinking required, no decision making skills exercised. Truth be told, I am kinda uncomfortable with having to “make a choice”—I am happier trusting in the larger flow of events.

This phenomenon (is it “choiceless awareness?”) has played out in my life experience so many times, and yet it so happens that ever so often I suffer from forgetfulness, and get into a tortuous bind, trying to “choose.” I forget that in truth, there are endless options, and my limited mind can comprehend only a few of them. And that there is not a real reason to “choose,” because the road is veering on its own, anyway… and one needs to turn the steering wheel very little, one way or another, for a smooth ride. One needs only to align with the larger curve, and there is minimal driving effort required.

For me this is about trusting, again and again. It’s about placing faith in the moment, allowing myself to be led. Perhaps it’s also about going in “blind,” refusing to give in to that little need “to know,” to be on top of things, to be in charge? Honestly, I am only too happy not to be in charge!

(There is a part of me that envisions all of this very differently. Perhaps all the mental gymnastics play out on a plane that exists wholly separate from the field of real action, so to speak. So, while we may spend endless hours deliberating on Choice#1 v/s Choice#2, the truth is that those considerations have zero bearing on what manifests.)

“Brahma”

If the wild bowler thinks he bowls,
Or if the batsman thinks he’s bowled,
They know not, poor misguided souls,
They too shall perish unconsoled.
I am the batsman and the bat,
I am the bowler and the ball,
The umpire, the pavilion cat,
The roller, pitch, and stumps, and all.

— Andrew Lang

Brave/Lucky

I have often heard one of two things about myself. That I am brave, and that I am lucky.

Brave, because I have chosen to defy norms and conventions that society typically sets out for women. Lucky, because I have privilege to defy these norms.

(I think that “lucky” negates “brave,” no?)

The first one (“brave”) makes me feel rather sheepish because I don’t think of myself a brave person. A brave person, I think, is someone who is fully aware of obstacles, and is also fully aware of the fear and anxiety within. Yet they choose to do what they do, or what they cannot but do. I wonder if these brave individuals would ever call themselves “brave.” This willingness (or “I cannot but do this”) to face fear in a seemingly hopeless, choice-less manner is what I call “bravery.” You can ask: If there is no choice involved (“I cannot but do this”), why is this person brave? Exactly. They aren’t calling themselves brave; you are. They are simply doing their thing.

I don’t see myself as brave because I DO NOT see any obstacles, ergo, I feel no fear and/or anxiety. People say I am brave because I chose not to have children. (But I didn’t! I just didn’t choose to have children.) People call me brave for defying the societal notion of women as childbearing individuals. (But I didn’t defy anything! Not a single person tried enforcing any such conventions on me. Not my parents, or my parents-in-law, or any one else.) People call me brave for talking about my experiences with street harassment. (But I don’t feel harassed any more, and I have little to no trauma attached to those incidents any more.) People call me brave for speaking about the time I lost touch with myself, floundering in self-hate and misery for months. (But it’s precisely because I regained love and joy that I spoke about it.)

I remember reading about pioneer LGBTQ activists, and marveling at their courage and resilience. Then I wondered, is there even a choice? We do what we do because we are moved to do so in a way that is specific and unique to us. It isn’t a choice, it is utter choicelessness.

Often times I have felt so wedded (or welded) to the moment that I have felt choiceless too. I cannot but go forth in that direction… whether it leads me to my future husband, or a job that makes me feel utterly shitty about myself, or a relationship that is equal parts exciting and disempowering. We look at the outcome to decide: Was that a good/wise/smart move? Ahhh, we will never know. Or perhaps it simply doesn’t matter.