The Winds of Existence
Sihanoukville, Cambodia, November 30th, 2014.
Salaroche


When I was a 10-year old boy I used to have existential moments that I still remember with crystal-clear intensity; moments in which I not only took full consciousness of my being alive and being an individual, but also in which I was fully aware of my awareness. Some sort of Cartesian moments of consciousness that would eventually lead me to delve deeper into the matter of existence.

A few years later, during my late teens, I had other experiences of the same quality and depth in which my mind was again exposed to the raw awareness of being lucidly conscious of my own consciousness. Some of those experiences left an indelible mark on my mind, to the point of arousing recurrent questions at different points in time as to what such states of consciousness meant and what was their source of provenance.

The truth is the clarity of those states of being and the absence of adjectives that characterized them always made me feel like an alien, like standing at the threshold of environments of consciousness that were at the same time unknown and familiar to me, like contemplating with my inner vision a transient duality that was perhaps on the verge of being unified again.

As time went by the winds of life carried me away in different directions and circumstances to a few different countries, which exposed me to different peoples, cultures, and idiosyncrasies, which in turn often brought me back to contemplating questions of identity. Very few things enhance the view of an inner eye eager to see more than exposure to cultural contrasts.

All along, and with my awareness of the crystal-clear quality of my intense existential moments in mind, the question was whether I could hold fast to the notion that my identity consisted merely of whatever traits were intrinsic in my name, or my physical appearance, or my social status, or my nationalities, or my education, or my accomplishments and failures and, fortunately, the answer to that question was always a disconcerting doubt.

An affirmative answer to it would have nullified the veracity of the moments previously mentioned. It would have meant an absence of understanding as to the pointers that my mind was presenting me with regarding some of the most simple, yet still arcane, questions any human being can ever wonder about: What am I doing here in this world?  Who am I? WHAT am I?

In no way could my mind sail against the winds clearly indicated in my experiences. I could maybe have doubts as to the time and the place where I would finally elucidate the meaning of those experiences, which sometimes made me wonder whether the direction I had taken was conducive to that purpose or not, but I never doubted the legitimacy of those experiences. There was never a question in my mind as to their realness.

The human mind has predetermined parameters of perception with which to discern and interpret the different realities filtering through the senses. In time, the use, quality, and limits of those parameters generate patterns that the mind later uses to asses other realms of mental experience such as the worlds of dreams, imagination, or any other possible realm of perception. Everything that flows through the channels of a mature mind is measured in line with all previous experiences as filtered through those predetermined parameters of perception.

Although those parameters are usually the same for all human beings, their quality and their limits may vary according to a few factors such as upbringing, culture, genetics, education, and others. Thus, the ability to reach states of consciousness of the sort I’m talking about may well be the result of a random combination of causes not easily reproduced at will. The same could be said of the ability to experience such states of being and later maintain the necessary level and quality of mental poise to assimilate them and to consider them as natural.

In my case, in being aware that my existential moments were not of the usual kind I was also aware that they were not the product of my imagination either. Furthermore, I had the clear intuition that there was more to them than met the eye, meaning that they may well represent only a glimpse of other things to come, although I didn’t know at the time what those other things might be or if and when they would come to me.

The winds of existence have their own compass according to each individual. Whether that compass can be manipulated at will is a question perhaps as old as that of the chicken and the egg. For example, was it predetermined for me to sit down and write these words today, or was it entirely a product of my volition? Could it be a combination of the two? Could it just be a random act resulting from a combination of factors such as my geographical situation, my education, my multilingualism, or my inquisitive proclivity?

Many people will tell you that there’s no such thing as “random”. They will say that everything has a meaning and everything has a reason. Others may tell you that such statements are sheer nonsense. They will say that most everything we do or happens to us depends on what we do or not do, want or not want. Does freewill exist or is it an illusion?

In my case, it seems impossible for me not to see those existential moments previously mentioned as a preamble to the Yoga experiences I would have later in my life. This would make me appear to lean in favor of predetermination but, was I really destined to follow the path I’ve thus far followed or did I consciously choose it? It’s really hard to say.

There comes a point, however, in which both options seem to melt into one and the same: whatever we choose is what we were meant to choose. And when we let somebody else make the wrong choice for us is because there’s a lesson for us to learn in that mistake. In other words, right if you do, right if you don’t.

As for me, I see everything that has happened or not happened to me in the past as the best path I could have taken. I’ve done a few dumb things in my life and I’ve accomplished a few others that I never even thought I cared about, but the bottom line is I wouldn’t trade my place for that of anybody else I know. As a human being I’m nowhere near perfection and, frankly, I’m very glad that's the case. As a living consciousness, however, that’s another story, but that is also the case for anyone reading or not reading these words.

The intuitions arising from the existential moments I experienced while I was a 10-year old boy and those I experienced later in life were correct. There was a continuation to them that was much more intense and significant than they were and the beauty of it all is that that sequel actually came to happen. Somehow I always knew that that would be the case. Somehow I always knew I would someday develop those states of being to higher degrees. Was I just being logical? Was I just being wishful? Or was I simply looking closely into the book of destinies? Maybe all three choices took place at the same time.


Salaroche