Satisfying the Monkey

Have you ever had one of those delicious moments when everything in your life seemed to click; when out of the blue someone or something entered your life, turned your situation completely around for the better, and life seemed limitless? Have you ever had a dear wish come true?

Me either. Just kidding.

A few years back, I convinced a friend to fly to Colorado with me to ‘achieve transmission of enlightenment, to taste totality, to see into our own nature, to gain knowledge by dispelling the darkness, and to find the middle path’.

That’s right, I dragged Chrissy’s ass to a meditation weekend with a group of twelve eager Buddhists, armed with a great thirst to clear their minds and attain an elevated level of self-knowledge… we’re talking Zen level.

What I really wanted was quiet. Chrissy wanted the free flight to Colorado.

Speaking only for myself, and in spite of my motive, I believe I learned exactly the lesson I needed to learn [at that time in my life]: I have Monkey Mind, and that little tike has a lot of energy.

The Big Buddha in charge explained, in short, that our thoughts are clutter, mere illusions. Our mind jumps from thought to thought, stirring up emotions that wreak havoc. The result: a general delusion that becomes a horrific false reality.  

Well I spent the entire weekend with that raging monkey running circles upstairs, wreaking that havoc, making me delusional… Oh, Lord…

Well, Big Buddha went on to tell us that we need to shed the illusions, that the reality is that there is you and your mind and it doesn’t matter your history, and it doesn’t matter your future, right now is what’s important because this moment is the moment you exist – it is your moment of existence.

SOLD.

(…however…)

(…and here’s where it gets delicious…)

I like the idea that ‘this is my moment of existence’, but I think I like what my monkey is selling more. I am open to evolution. This doesn’t mean I leave who I am behind; it means that I am more than I was. And I like thinking about my future and feeling as though I have some control in carving it out. I used to be a huge believer in fate.  What an incredibly romantic notion, and so easy to express as absolute truth through rose-colored hindsight glasses, but how depressing to think that you can work so hard towards a goal, and if it’s not your destiny, if it’s not fate, then you worked hard for nothing. So again, I like what my monkey is selling. I don’t cling or grasp to the vines it swings from, I don’t attach myself to false hopes, I simply enjoy, and appreciate, the inspiration of my monkey. And so I feed it. Every day. It likes chocolate.