I don´t like molds. Well, maybe for cooking.
In the process of growing up, the only thing I have been really doing is throwing away stuff. Because, the only thing I have realized is that all those things I assumed have a define shape (happiness, relationships, success, spirituality, yoga, etc.) well, in the practical-real-alive life, don´t fit with any type of preconceived mold.
The process of throwing away stuff is nice and deep and I like to think that has to do a lot with vairagya, Patañjali´s non-attachment (I.15).
In my mind it´s like this:
I have a mental idea of what happiness is. I have read about it, I have seen it on TV. Everyone around: my parents, my friends, my teachers, everyone, seem to be very into it so, OK, let´s go there!
Then, in my mind, a creative process begins where happiness starts to be connected with other stuff; happiness is colorful (some specific colors not black, oh no), has some temperature (spring-summer temperature), happiness has to do with some people around me and, I can even listen the happiness soundtrack playing.
The thing is that in the practical-real-alive life what happens is more related to what “The Tibetan book of the Dead” says: “wishing for happiness, we pass our human lives in suffering”.
Well, let´s say it: Creating a stable pattern for something that it´s clearly in constant transformation and movement, have to be ignorance.
Once, I read in Alejandro Jodorowsky´s “La via del Tarot”, that perfection is dead. In perfection nothing-nothing can change because if that happens, there is no perfection any more and well, when nothing can change we are in front of something weirdest than death itself (because changes continue even after death).
The thing I wanted to write about was that I like this feeling of throwing away mental structures that are here creating pain and discomfort.
Before: When something didn´t fit in my mold my first reaction always was something like: But, come on! You have to fit here, this IS love, success, happiness, friendships, yoga, etc. (The list is endless) And there I was, fighting against something bigger than me, feeling bad.
For the last years now, I have been asking myself: Why do I want the things to be different from what they are? Will it change the way I feel love, the way I feel happiness? Maybe the form will change, but not the content. Maybe, if the form change, the content also suffers some changes.
Maybe the key is to be open.
I am now practicing seeing things as “they are” without putting my preconceptions on them. I am practicing to not interrupt the others in the way they share their own feelings and I am feeling light.
No, I am not arranging my molds on the side; I am throwing the stuff away from me. Creating space.
I am letting happiness find me.
I am allowing love be.
Humbly and gratefully.