Miles' Monthly Summary

Exploration of the nature of self and selflessness has been the primary focus of the month. Critically analyzing and questioning the boundaries of the self in every respect: physically, mentally, emotionally, in terms of sense perceptions. In other words, if an "I" exists, then it should be able to be described accurately - its color, size, shape, texture, precise borders. The results of inquiries directed at specifically defining this "I" have yielded no results. Efforts to fully describe a physical form have broken down under scrutiny, with the boundary between rump and chair, arm and air blurred and unable to be demarcated. I have tried to identify the exact point where the sound actually enters my body, where the emitter of the sound and the perceiver of the sound are clearly demarcated. This has also yielded no specific point, no area where the rest of the world and me have a delineation. In touching this reality, my body experiences a light tingling sensation and muscle tightness fades away; anything hard, firm, or tense just softens. The conclusion of this experiment seems obvious - that there cannot be an isolated, defined "me" that exists separately from the rest of the world. Even my physical form is illusory.

The other principal theme of this month has been my utter preoccupation with the Miles self-improvement project. How my thoughts and actions are driven so often by a desire for a better me, a me that will be more calm, less agitated, always accepting and kind, loving and beautiful. Looking directly at the huge amount of energy that I invest in making an "I", and making that "I" better than my last "I" has been revealing, because self-improvement is a constantly shifting target. At no point does this process ever cease and become satisfied; there is always room for improvement. The fundamental conclusion of this process is that this pattern of thinking and doing will never leave me satisfied and happy with myself. It makes me sad to think of it and all of the consequent unpleasantness I have created for myself.

How does one continue the path without striving for the better me? What would it feel like to completely give up on the idea of me? It's frightening. At one point this month, I felt an episode of pure fear grip my chest and physically tighten around me. This incredible project that I have spent so many years preening, reassuring, molding, patching up, cheering up, beating up, yelling at, being disappointed by, and being proud of is just an illusion. Ouch. And yet there is a beautiful spaciousness waiting to be explored as well. Although I am afraid, a deep part of my being is fundamentally drawn to move forward with the practice.