Korpo
On Dispassion
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, 16th October 2011 at 10:26 PM (2810 Views)
Sometimes, in the course of the changes one experiences during spiritual maturation, one finds an emotion or state one did not know existed, does not have words for and does not understand at first. Dispassion is such a thing. It's not easily recognised for what it is when it happens, but it has been an ongoing thing for me for years now.
Dispassion might look like other emotional reactions at times. Is it depression? Have I become unfeeling or uncaring? Have I lost my drive? As with many things that look alike (at first) but are not alike discernment is our friend here.
Imagine outside events as key strokes on a piano. Some are small, and some are harsh, and they make the strings vibrate. Naturally a string would lessen in its back-and-forth vibration until it comes to rest in its natural position. But for most people it is like new impulses come in before the strings have come to rest.
Which is a shame. The pauses between vibrations are the peace you experience, a quiet digestion of what has happened, a return to a cleaner slate where the next event can be taken in.
Now imagine somebody put a piece of cloth across the strings. Every sound would now occur quieter and the strings would come to rest much quicker. This is what to me dispassion is. A quicker return to the state of rest, inner rest.
As addicts to intensity (and possibly drama) we don't recognise dispassion for what it is at first. The extreme reactions have gone missing, and at first I wondered if I had lost part of my humanity back then. As I explored what had happened I came to the conclusion this was not the case. I had not become uncaring, nor unfeeling, nor depressed.
In fact I cared differently and deeply, but without being upset so much. I would feel, but the purity of the feeling made me avoid thrills and extremes. I was able to detach myself without losing touch.
As dispassion grows I'm surely not free of all the old habits. Anger is still strong. But things no longer occupy my mind as long, upsets come and go, and while I might not spend all my moments in the here and now, more of my experience happens to me directly so I feel not as much need to hang on to it as I used to.
Maybe you know the Zen story of the farmer that always says "We'll see."?
(from: http://users.rider.edu/~suler/zenstory/maybe.html)There is a Taoist story of an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. "Such bad luck," they said sympathetically. "May be," the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. "How wonderful," the neighbors exclaimed. "May be," replied the old man. The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. "May be," answered the farmer. The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out. "May be," said the farmer.
That's one example of dispassion, but I also like this:
(from: http://www.yoga-age.com/modern/vairagya/vairagya2.html)Originally Posted by Theodore Tilton
Evenmindedness, dispassion and equanimity - related terms and concepts, and they all point one way: to peace. In our disturbed times and our disturbed minds we cannot imagine the strangest thing about peace to know: It's always there. For when things comes to rest, when the swirling waters return to calm and when the silence returns after the shout, there's peace.
You cannot attain peace by running after it. It comes to you when the circumstances are right. So when dispassion appears, know it for what it is, as it paves the way for more peace in your life, bit by bit.