I watch a lot of movies, so many that I forget what I've even watched. I'm absorbed in each movie as I watch it but then it's over and I move on. Our life is like that. We get absorbed in it and then it's over and we move on. The main difference between our life and a movie we are watching is that we are also the star actor in the movie of our life. Yet, we still watch the movie as we watch ourselves act and watch others interact with us. Our actions and reactions are central to how the movie plays out.
Given that we are the star actor, it's no wonder that we are deeply absorbed in the movie of our life. In any given movie, we usually identify with an actor and suffer with her or him as the plot unfolds. When the actor is myself, the absorption is almost complete except when we suffer some shock that causes temporary dissociation. At such a time, we are simply the watcher and no longer absorbed in our acting role. If it happens, it doesn't last for long and soon we are back in our favourite role. It's a role we relish no matter what our mood. Especially when we are suffering, we are deeply immersed.
It's all quite normal of course, everybody does it, but the fact remains that we are playing a role (dramatic, comedic or whatever) in an episode of an ongoing series. The episode is our current life and it is but one in a very long series of lives. We have become addicted to the series and watch episode after episode, reviewing the life just lived in between lives as we prepare for the next. In certain lives, we struggle just to stay alive amidst war, famine and disease. There is little time for objectivity. In other lives however, we will have time to contemplate our role playing, recognise it for what it is, and realise that only the watcher was real. I, the actor, was a temporary psychological construct.
Rarely does this happen however, because it's unsettling to think of ourself as a psychological construct. Yet that is what we are. Our deconstruction will begin immediately following the death of our physical bodies. While the drama of our lives is playing out before us, we can begin to identify more with the watcher than the actor but such is our psychological investment in the latter that true detachment is almost impossible. The sense of I is so strong that it cannot be extinguished. It's like trying to swallow yourself, as the ouroboros does, so that you disappear completely. After that achievement, the watcher realises that there never was anything to watch in the first place. Only very few achieve this.
Given that we are the star actor, it's no wonder that we are deeply absorbed in the movie of our life. In any given movie, we usually identify with an actor and suffer with her or him as the plot unfolds. When the actor is myself, the absorption is almost complete except when we suffer some shock that causes temporary dissociation. At such a time, we are simply the watcher and no longer absorbed in our acting role. If it happens, it doesn't last for long and soon we are back in our favourite role. It's a role we relish no matter what our mood. Especially when we are suffering, we are deeply immersed.
It's all quite normal of course, everybody does it, but the fact remains that we are playing a role (dramatic, comedic or whatever) in an episode of an ongoing series. The episode is our current life and it is but one in a very long series of lives. We have become addicted to the series and watch episode after episode, reviewing the life just lived in between lives as we prepare for the next. In certain lives, we struggle just to stay alive amidst war, famine and disease. There is little time for objectivity. In other lives however, we will have time to contemplate our role playing, recognise it for what it is, and realise that only the watcher was real. I, the actor, was a temporary psychological construct.
Rarely does this happen however, because it's unsettling to think of ourself as a psychological construct. Yet that is what we are. Our deconstruction will begin immediately following the death of our physical bodies. While the drama of our lives is playing out before us, we can begin to identify more with the watcher than the actor but such is our psychological investment in the latter that true detachment is almost impossible. The sense of I is so strong that it cannot be extinguished. It's like trying to swallow yourself, as the ouroboros does, so that you disappear completely. After that achievement, the watcher realises that there never was anything to watch in the first place. Only very few achieve this.
