The Aliveness of Existence

How anger, lust, and sorrow can be gateways to awakening

“Shiv, I found your latest Substack note quite provocative and intriguing. It’s the one where you wrote:

Don’t meditate.

Marinate.

Become so porous that the experience of this moment infuses you.

If it is joy that arises become infused by joy.

If it is anger that arises become infused by anger.

If it is lust that arises become infused by lust.

If it is silence that arises become infused by silence.

To become truly porous you will need to let go of judgment. For the moment you resist one experience in favour of another, you become crystallized and rigid.

Become infused by life and you will come to realize that any sense of separation you had previously experienced was merely the result of a binary conditioning.

One that functions on the logic of:

“This / Not-this.”

I notice two things arising within me simultaneously. There is a rush of fear and aversion at the thought of marinating in anger or lust. I am afraid—what if these feelings overwhelm me and I act them out? But there is a deeper sense of resonance, a kind of remembrance within me that knows what you say is true. How do I go about reconciling this dichotomy?”

.

***

.

My daughters often enjoy scrolling through the Photos album on my phone and looking at old videos I took of them when they were infants. One of their favorite videos of all time is one in which my younger daughter, then less than a year old, is standing up in her crib while holding on to the railings. Her face is beaming with the biggest smile you could imagine and she is laughing with sheer delight at the sound of my voice speaking to her. But what is so funny about the video is that her cheeks are stained with tears. Mere moments before I had begun recording, she had been in the midst of bawling her eyes out in frustration and protest while I changed her diaper. In the video, I can be heard asking her how she can be so happy when her tears of utter suffering are still so fresh and glistening on her cheeks. And each time I ask her that question she squeals with delight.

We were all like this once.

We had the capacity to feel great anguish in one moment and sheer delight in the next. We had the freedom to pivot effortlessly between emotions carrying no baggage from one moment into the next. And we could do this, because we held no fixed or coherent idea of who we were. We were inseparable from the moment. If the moment caused pain, we cried. If the moment felt pleasurable, we laughed. If the moment felt frustrating, we screamed. If the moment felt calm, we smiled.

But as adults we are no longer attuned to life as it happens. Instead, we orient ourselves to life as it should happen.

When we are happy, we may laugh (but should never too loudly or disruptively).

When we are sad, it is ok to cry (but we should ensure not to be too theatrical about it).

If we are angry, we should learn a number of soothing techniques to quell that anger (raising our voices is not acceptable and exerting force is strictly punishable).

And if we lust, then that lust should be kept hidden (never to be revealed to others lest they think us depraved).

The fear of ‘the devil’ in us - whether or not we subscribe to a metaphysics - is deeply ingrained. We have been brainwashed into believing that if we relax that mechanism of control within ourselves - that determines right from wrong, appropriate from inappropriate, evolved from devolved, ‘awake’ from ‘asleep’ - then we will slip inexorably into the darkness of ignorance, depravity and suffering.

This puritanical streak is still very much alive in us even if we have long renounced our religious beliefs.

But what I am speaking about in the text you have quoted is not advocating for a laissez-faire attitude towards personal ethics or an ‘anything goes’ approach to life. For even those are absolute stances built upon belief systems of hedonism, cynicism or nihilism.

I am speaking of an intelligent responsiveness to life that is deeply life-affirming - that is spontaneous, not regressive. In which there is no gap between the experience and the experiencer. For it is in that gap that the ego lives and thrives - and as it grows, so also does the gap widen until it becomes a great chasm that swallows our lives.

Turn left, or right?

It is possible to live an ethical life without building an identity around one’s ethics. It is possible to act morally without being ‘a moral person’. It is possible to work for the benefit and well-being of others without being identified with the ‘goodness’ or ‘rightness’ of one’s acts.

Navigating society and social relationships is much like driving a vehicle. There are rules of the road that keep traffic moving in an organized and orderly fashion which prevents unnecessary chaos and accidents. Red lights mean ‘stop’, green lights mean ‘go’. Some rules are a bit more open to interpretation - for e.g. the yellow light means ‘slow down’ to some drivers and to others (like me) it means ‘speed up’!

But we all generally have a sense of how best to orient to one another in traffic. And we do this without building much of an identity around it. We don’t sit around spending time thinking about our driving. We don’t reminisce on the various commutes we have done in the past. Nor do we waste much energy on envisioning the many drives we will go on in the future. Driving is a functional task we engage in - not an existential one.

Of course, it can trigger emotions in us. Frustration is a common emotion many drivers feel especially when stuck in traffic. Rage is another emotion that comes up when conflicts on the road emerge between cars. Driving can also inspire a sense of freedom, joy and relaxation when set in picturesque surroundings away from dense urban populations.

Yet, even when these emotions do come up - they are typically momentary. We seldom remember the frustration we felt while driving the previous day. And even road rage lingers in the body for only a few hours and then dissipates when one has moved into a different setting.

In fact, one of the biggest contributors to frustration while driving isn’t the act of driving itself, nor is it the traffic conditions or even the behaviour of other drivers. It is the frustration that we are carrying within us from our lives that we often bring behind the wheel and then act out in the form of aggressive driving and risky manoeuvres.

And we “carry” this frustration because living - as opposed to driving - is something we are deeply identified with. Our ethics, our principles, our sense of right and wrong - are not just self-evident and rational ‘rules of the road’ that allow for a more harmonious flow in society - they are deeply personal. They aren’t just what we do. To us - they are who we are.

Imagine if one driver believed the “right way” to get to the center of the city was to take the inside roads and another driver believed it was to take the highway. Normally, this would not be an issue. They may not agree on which path to take - but it is of no source of conflict between them. But now, imagine if the first driver believed that only drivers that took the inside roads were worthy of driving and the second driver believed that only those who took the highway deserved to be on the road.

Now, their choice of route is not merely a matter of what they do. It is existential. It defines who they are. Each day the drivers who take the inside roads watch the ones who stream in through the highway with suspicion - silently hating them for their choices - for taking the “easy way” in. Meanwhile, the highway drivers watch the former set with disdain - seeing them as a bunch of regressives who stick to the “old ways” and refuse to evolve with the times.

In the midst of these two, perhaps there is even a third set of drivers - of a more inclusive orientation. These say everyone should be free to choose their own way into the city and believe all ways in are the “right way”.

Yet, even this group continues to operate off the fundamental assumption that any of it truly means anything!

The rules are made up. The signs are made up. The meanings behind the traffic lights are made up. They are all symbolic of a collective agreement we have made as to what any of these mean. But they don’t inherently hold any truth. In another setting, a red light may indicate the existence of a brothel. And a green light may be used for night vision.

Similarly, our social rules of engagement are merely consensus agreements we have signed in order to facilitate a smooth social flow and minimize the occurrence of unnecessary conflict. Just as you wouldn’t swerve into another lane without checking who is coming up behind you and signaling your intent to change lanes - you regulate your behaviour in society with the same kind of learned instinct.

You are not ‘repressing’ yourself by not acting out in public, just as you are not repressing yourself by not swerving into the other lane. It is only repression if there is a sense of identification with the action.

True Intelligence

So understand that the spontaneity I am speaking of is not some regression into infancy - in which we now feel free to drop onto our backs in the middle of the supermarket and howl and wail while flailing our arms and legs anytime we feel frustrated.

Just as I spontaneously click the turning signal and check my mirrors each time I perform a lane change - one can equally act with social decorum while maintaining a high level of spontaneity and responsiveness to one’s social environment.

When I mentioned in my note:

“If lust arises become infused by lust. If anger arises become infused by anger.”

I am not suggesting that one must therefore start sexually harassing people or beating them up.

Appropriate action involves many factors - not only how one feels but also what the environment makes possible.

Even animals know this. If my dog is tired he will delay lying down until he has found a soft and comfortable place to lie down. If the surface is rocky or covered in debris he will continue standing despite his exhaustion.

Is he repressing his desire to lie down? No, he is simply making a judgment of when the optimal time and place is for him to do so.

Good judgment is something all organisms are capable of. Birds seek the right trees and shade and protection in which to build their nests. Insects seek out the right nutrient rich and moist spaces in which to breed and lay their eggs. Even certain bacteria seek out environments richest in sugars to infest.

A spontaneous decision is an intelligent decision. And this kind of intelligence responds to the unique conditions of the actual present moment situation one is inhabiting rather than restricting it to some abstract and unchanging mental model of what that situation represents.

In other words, the information we are responding to is not wholly predetermined. It is fresh and reveals itself in the moment. When you look at a red rose - the model in your head says “red rose” and conjures a picture of a generic red rose. That rose never changes, never wilts, never buds, never blooms. It is frozen in time - in eternal abstraction. And if you respond to that model in your head every time you encounter an actual rose - you will never truly encounter the real rose. For no two roses are alike. No two roses bloom in the same way. No two roses carry the same exact scent.

The model in your head carries static information. And while that information is useful in allowing you to process the world quickly and efficiently - it is not intelligent. For intelligence comes from the new. And the only thing new is the actual rose in front of you - the one you have never encountered before. Its shape is new. Its scent is new. Its very existence is new to you.

When you encounter the new - you open to life’s intelligence. And in doing so your own intelligence grows.

This is what it means to be spontaneous. To be perpetually open to the new.

Why do children grow so rapidly in intelligence? There is of course the biological aspect of their rapidly growing anatomy. But the human brain is capable of growth throughout its lifetime. We are capable of growing new grey cells, new neural pathways, new synaptic connections, even in the twilight years of our lives.

What is the one feature that differentiates the child’s mind from the adult’s?

It is curiosity.

And a very specific kind of curiosity.

Not necessarily the academic kind which looks to accumulate more abstract information (although there is a value in that kind of curiosity as well). Rather, it is a curiosity about the world as it is.

I would often watch my daughters for hours in fascination when they were toddlers. Everything they encountered had to be experienced by all of their senses. It was not enough for them to simply recognize an object. It had to be banged on the floor to see what kind of sound it made. It had to be pressed up against their faces to see how it felt on the skin. It had to be rotated in every orientation possible to see how its shape changed based on perspective. It especially had to be inserted into their mouths to see how it tasted. It didn’t matter what the item was - whether edible or inedible. (I recall once standing on a subway train carrying my daughter in a sling while she arched her back in an attempt to taste the metal support pole that joined the floor to the ceiling.)

Now, I am not advocating that each reader should go out into the world and start licking every object they set their eyes on. But I am pointing to that insatiable curiosity that is the hallmark of true intelligence.

When I say: “When anger arises, become infused by that anger.”

What I am saying is: be curious.

For how do you know what that anger is?

Do you assume all instances of anger are the same, just as you assume all red roses are the same?

When you repress anger or feel shame about it - which anger are you responding to - the anger that is arising now or the model of anger you have formed in your mind? The one that says “anger is wrong”.

One is a static and dead anger. The other is intelligent and alive.

But you would never know it - because each time it arises within you, you kill it by replacing the live experience with the dead imposter that lives in your mind.

Anger when truly entered and felt in the moment - contains the seed of aliveness - it contains information that has never been encountered before in all of existence. And when you open yourself to that anger - you become a conduit for that aliveness and a recipient of life’s intelligence.

Rejecting the Gift

My pointer to “marinate” in whatever is occurring - has little to do with the format in which this moment appears. It has to do with the underlying aliveness which carries vital live information and without which intelligence cannot grow and thrive.

It may sound clichéd - but the present moment is indeed a gift - a present. Yet, that present comes giftwrapped in all variety of patterns of wrapping paper. Some patterns are beautiful and some are hideous. Some patterns are colorful and some are dreadfully dull. Some patterns are attractive and some are repulsive.

But imagine the person who refuses to unwrap their gift because they believe it’s wrapped in the wrong kind of paper?

That “person” is nearly everyone on the planet. For our own thought patterns, emotional patterns, behaviour patterns and patterns of belief are the patterned wrapping paper in which the gift of this moment consistently arrives.

We are so identified with the superficial exterior of each moment that we have lost the ability to extract its essence. An ability that is innate within all of us - that each and every one of us, without exception, was born with.

I recall watching my infant daughters being gifted expensive toys by their grandparents only to lose interest in them shortly after - preferring instead to bang the pots and pans that my wife and I already knew provided them hours of endless delight. The timeless shape of a spoon or the eternally efficient design of a cup gave them the information they were thirsty for, not entertainment. It was why they could tell the difference between each spoon and its unique resonance when struck against the kitchen counter (or their father’s head).

But we… we live in a world of generic spoons, generic anger, generic thoughts and generic emotions.

In replacing live experiences with dead models of reality in the name of efficiency, we increasingly inhabit a dead existence.

But how do we know we are correct? How do we truly know - that this time perhaps anger won’t be something different, entirely unprecedented? That this time suffering won’t blossom in a way it never has before?

We cannot ever find out if we don’t experience it.

The Coffin and the Chrysalis

When I experienced my spiritual awakening in my twenties - it occurred precisely when that control mechanism, the ego, that thought it understood what suffering was - collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Up until that point, I had operated from a place of firm resistance - believing fully in the model of my mind that saw suffering as a monstrous parasite that was sucking the lifeforce out of me. But when I could resist it no longer and simply gave up in defeat, submitting myself to that parasite - I came to see it for the powerful benefactor it really was.

It tasted not of death and decay but of growth and emergence. It smelled not like a tomb but like a chrysalis.

And the moment I became one with that suffering - I became one with life. The sense of separation that had previously pervaded my every moment, that had become the very scaffolding of my identity, evaporated. And in its place - nothing but pristine presence. Being in its unadulterated essence.

In hindsight, that awakening was nothing special. It was merely a return to pure spontaneity. An infusion with the aliveness of life - that was once a regular feature in my infancy. It felt electrifying - but only because my own batteries had become so sorely depleted that it took a while to reorient to the current of life.

That current runs through each and every moment that transpires regardless of the form the moment arrives in. The moment may appear positive or negative, beneficial or harmful, creative or destructive, harmonious or chaotic - but it always carries the aliveness of existence.

Yet, the moment you judge the form as “right” or “wrong” - not merely from a functional perspective, but an existential one - you are saying “NO” to the moment. You have disconnected yourself from that current of aliveness. And are now running off the limited batteries of your ego.

Just like a wrong turn on a street is only “wrong” in the functional context of where your itinerary is pointing you - and does not mean there is anything wrong with the street. So also are human experiences and emotions ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, ‘good’ and ‘bad’ only in the relative societal contexts in which they exist - as agreed upon by consensus. They are not inherently right or wrong in and of themselves.

Knowing this, not just intellectually but viscerally - to feel this truth in one’s bones - is a profound realization. It is a gamechanger.

Because it recontextualizes our lives and frees us of the absolutes that imprison us - that force us to identify with them.

We are able to act ethically and morally, understanding that our actions only hold relative truth - and that beyond these contexts they are meaningless in and of themselves.

Unencumbered by the patterns in which the present moment is wrapped, our awareness becomes free to attend to the real gift within the wrapping.

We become free to bawl with misery in one moment and then laugh with sheer delight in the next.

Because we have rediscovered the secret that lies within each one of these moments.

The one that fascinated us endlessly as infants.

The beating heart of life itself.