Fuck, this must be the best read I’ve had in a while.
What if I don’t try to escape, what happens then.. Sight, finally some relief. This might not be so bad after all compared to the clinched fist. The contrast is needed to appreciate it for what it is.
This post is timely for me. I've been experiencing the truth of this over the past month pretty intensely, because I have been dealing with a very intense period of caretaking for my mother. Everything about the situation has been challenging and very much unwanted. Sometimes my mind is in a tight knot of regret and/or escape fantasy, and it's when that knot loosens, those are the moments of deep relief. "Suffering" through the fear or sadness or confusion feels like peace compared to the stranglehold of wishing it to be otherwise.
Robert, your piece reminds me strongly of something Krishnamurti kept pointing to: that seeking itself is the continuation of the problem. You’re right—most spiritual “solutions” are just escape plans dressed up as insight.
But I think there is a subtle distinction worth holding. It’s not that there’s nothing to do. Krishnamurti would say the very act of seeing suffering without resistance or escape is already the ending of an extra layer of suffering. Not resignation, not management, but a direct perception. The seeing is the action.
Where you describe the present as “unalterable,” he would say: yes, the fact cannot be changed by thought. But when the fact is seen without judgment—without the observer separate from the observed—there is a different kind of change. Not a becoming, but an ending. And in that ending, compassion flowers.
So perhaps the liberation isn’t “nothing to do,” but the ending of false doing. Then the ordinary movements—sitting in the park, watching, caring, laughing—are no longer escapes but expressions of a mind not demanding to be other than it is.
What’s interesting is that this “you cannot decide what to think next” insight is actually in line with what Krishnamurti was pointing to. He wasn’t selling a method or a choice—you’re right, you can’t decide to see without judgment like flipping a switch. Judgment arises or it doesn’t.
The reason people followed him is the same reason people follow anyone who touches something raw and unsettling about the human condition: we’re caught in the machinery of thought, craving certainty, craving meaning, and hoping someone has an answer. William James showed how those feelings of certainty can convince us something is “true” when it’s just a passing brain-state. Robert Burton went further and showed that the sense of knowing itself is neurological, not proof. Zapffe called this the “conspiracy against the human race”—that consciousness generates unbearable awareness, and we survive only by deceiving ourselves.
So why did people gather around Krishnamurti? Because he stripped away the usual consolations and exposed the trap. Ironically, that exposure itself became another thing to cling to. That’s the paradox: even the idea of “freedom from authority” can be turned into an authority.
Yes, Krishnamurti rejected method, practice, tradition, and time. And yes, he emphasized seeing without the “observer”—without the overlay of conditioning. But he still implied that this “choiceless awareness” could happen if one paid attention. He denied becoming, but retained a kind of agency—not in effort, perhaps, but in perception. A responsibility to see, and in that seeing, a transformation.
That’s not my view.
“You cannot decide what to think next” is not a spiritual posture. It’s not a subtle encouragement to try non-doing. It’s a plain observation: the thought that arises is the thought that arises. There’s no backstage self-selecting it. No witness initiating perception. No switch to flip.
If judgment drops away, it does. If clarity dawns, it does. But not because “you” made it happen.
Krishnamurti said, “The moment you see the danger, you act.” But seeing isn’t under your control. Sometimes it occurs. Often it doesn’t. He preserved a hidden volition—he still leaned on “the seeing is the doing.” That’s not negation. That’s a method disguised as insight.
So no, I don’t think we’re saying the same thing. I’m not pointing to a refined kind of doing. I’m denying the whole apparatus, including the “you” who would ever see without judgment.
I hear you. That’s the razor’s edge difference. Krishnamurti still smuggled in a subtle agency—if you pay attention, then…—which keeps a faint echo of volition alive. What you’re saying is more radical: there’s no “if.” There’s no backstage chooser. Thought arises, or it doesn’t. Clarity dawns, or not.
And that’s where the trap shows itself. Even “choiceless awareness” becomes another method if it implies responsibility. What looks like freedom ends up another burden: you must see.
Your point reminds me of Robert Burton’s work on certainty—how the sense of “knowing” is just a brain state. Krishnamurti wanted “the seeing” to cut through conditioning, but the very idea of “the seeing” carries the weight of agency. That’s exactly what Zapffe spotted too: the human tendency to invent coping mechanisms—even the subtlest ones—to bear the burden of awareness.
What you’re pointing to is the collapse of even that. No method, no chooser, no “seeing is the doing.” Just whatever is happening.
I notice in myself this strong sense of responsibility — almost a demand — to act in the face of suffering and chaos. Intellectually I can see what you’re saying: no chooser, no hidden volition, whatever happens is what happens. But experientially, the weight of responsibility still presses.
Maybe that too is just what arises — the impulse to help, to resist, to care. And maybe it doesn’t need to be reconciled with the denial of agency. The “responsibility” isn’t chosen, it’s felt. It appears like any other thought or emotion.
So the paradox is: there is no one behind the curtain making it happen, but when compassion or responsibility shows up, it shows up with force. And action follows. Not because “I” decided, but because that’s what the chaos is doing in this moment.
The impulse to help, to resist, to care—none of that is denied. What’s denied is authorship. The idea that there’s a “you” behind the impulse, choosing it, weighing it, making it happen. There isn’t.
The confusion enters when we smuggle responsibility back in as a kind of virtue. Not as moralism, perhaps, but as a presumed clarity: I see, therefore I must act. But even that is theater after the fact. The seeing, the impulse, the action—they arise or they don’t. No rehearsal. No decider.
You’re correct to say that Krishnamurti left a trace of agency in the frame. A kind of last-ditch nobility: if you really see, the false drops away. But that “if” is fatal. It opens the door to striving, to self-monitoring, to the very machinery he meant to dismantle.
What remains here is simpler. The thought arises, the feeling arises, the hand moves—or doesn’t. Even the sense of responsibility is just part of the weather. It can be strong. It can drive action. But no one’s driving it.
Very thought provoking and artfully written, Robert. I am not a devotee of any path or guru, but Eckhart Tolle advocates for accepting whatever the present moment contains, just as it is. We may find ourself getting irritated, emotional, reactive; but we can then notice ourself going unconscious and catch it before we fully are. Getting back to being conscious provides the optimal chance for effectively handling the situation. My commitment then is to remain conscious as much as possible.
You say, “We may find ourself getting irritated… but we can then notice ourself going unconscious and catch it…” That sounds plausible on the surface, but who is the “we” here? And what exactly is doing the noticing? If irritation already arose, then so did the conditions that led to it. If noticing occurs, that too arises unbidden. No one chose it.
Tolle speaks of “remaining conscious” as if consciousness were a stance one could assume—like good posture. But by the time one is reactive, the so-called unconsciousness is already in motion. Noticed or not, it’s what’s happening. The idea that we can “catch it” and steer back to presence is comforting, but I see no evidence that it works that way.
Awareness isn’t a commitment. It’s a condition that comes and goes. You don’t remain conscious. Noticing is there, or not. No one’s steering.
Robert, Thank you for your comments. I respect you and don't mean to argue, but my continued intention and practice to remain as "conscious" as I can has resulted in my personal growth. It's not just an intellectual exercise, but as I said, is an intention to which I have committed, and practice by noticing negative changes in my thoughts and emotional state that indicate I have been triggered. At that moment when I recognize the signs, I have a choice to either remain controlled by the ego mind, which loves to judge, be right, and project anger onto others, or to pause, take a breath or two, and reclaim my conscious awareness beyond ego mind. In that moment, I can perceive more, understand from a broader perserctive, and even have compassion for those I initially intended to chastise. This practive has helped me handle difficult situations more effectively and regain peace more quickly. Thanks for listening.
It seems to me that all of spirituality is about improving things for ourselves through deliberate practice - whatever that might look like. And, as you say, that premise us flawed.
However, I'm now of the opinion that it IS possible to increase the LIKELIHOOD of the arising of moments of clear seeing, by putting ourselves more often in situations that encourage noticing what arises....just sitting, just listening to music, just people-watching, just being out in nature etc.
The cumulative effect is, in my experience, more frequent moments of clear seeing and, consequently, contentment.
And this makes sense...we redraw neural pathways and create new neurons when we repeat an activity...
Most of my life has been spent trying to avoid / escape the shitstorm.
Now, just standing in the midst of it, letting everything just be what it is, doesn't take any of it away, or make it "better". However, I am finding out that what you have said all along, about stopping the avoidance and escapism, and facing / being what actually is, has a resounding ring to it. A ring that seems to make sense. In spite of how I might feel, or what I might think.
Standing, even walking through the storm (aka: life on planet Earth) has taken on a whole different aspect that I can't really explain, but it's astonishing nonetheless.
This morning the sky was filled with pink clouds. I drove to the store in my bathrobe to get cream for my coffee. On the way back I saw two crows pecking at a large rat which appeared to be injured; for some reason I like rats. Briefly considered stopping my car and trying to help the rat but did not. It still feels weird. It also reminds me of the situation in Gaza…Joan T would say it’s all part of the whole….whatever. But it still feels wrong and yet I am unable to do anything about it. That children are bombed and starved is not right.
Of course it's not right. Meanwhile, someone will send the steak back to the kitchen because it's not rare enough, or the wine is not sufficiently chilled. There's no justice in this world.
When I read "...the present moment is unalterable," I flashed back on the experience of watching the best / worst parts of the 1979 movie, Alien.
Moments later I read that all the profound and lofty thoughts about spiritual stuff could be summed up as ".. just another idea floating in the thought bubble above your your head," and I was laughing out loud. What a fun contrast!
There's no accurate caption to what I'm feeling now, rather relaxed and open. Relevant or not, I admit to seeing the word "freedom" in this here thought bubble.
Robert - I’ve only just begun to ‘follow’ you, and I realize this is an older post, but it really helped clarify what I think your position is…and definitely helped put things in context with a back and forth I read between you and Joan Tollifson.
In that conversation you said something like, “let the floor completely drop”. And by that, and this article, I believe what you’re saying is that the only thing you truly know is that there is no separate self. Anything after that - one consciousness, etc - is conjecture, theory and cannot truly be known. And yes, there is a longing for more, but that is not proof nor could be proof of something more within our redundant thought loop. Fair enough. I am choosing for now that there is something larger and deeper.
What I find extremely difficult is reconciling ‘no self / no doer’ AND my daily actions. Let’s take the analogy (completely inadequate but aren’t they all) of a pool ball rolling along after be struck. In the ‘no self / no doer’ all that ball can do (my body/mind) is roll along and at best just observe, correct? And yet it feels we are called upon all day long to ‘make decisions’. Tea or coffee? Support genocide, or fight against? How does one relax into the roll, and yet make decisions? Just see what comes up? Or (and just now guessing this may be right) see what comes up and roll with it? Give to Doctors Without Borders…have a nice cup of coffee and sit in the sun. Whatever comes up. Fine to be aware, fine to internally debate…it’s just that there is no self or doer debating or making the decision. The decision will be made.
Thanks for reading with care. But just to clarify: I don't say there is no separate self. I don’t say there is one, either. I simply don’t see any basis for making metaphysical claims in either direction. “No separate self” can become just another belief if it’s taken as a final answer. And if it’s true in some ultimate sense, I wouldn’t know that. I’m describing what’s observable—not drawing conclusions beyond what appears.
That said, I do speak about what I see. And what I see is that the experience of being a self—a chooser, a doer, an author of thought—is recursive and contingent. It arises in a loop of memory, affect, language, and narrative pressure. And when that loop quiets down or becomes transparent, the sense of doership can soften. That doesn’t mean no action occurs. It just means the idea that “I am the one doing it” no longer holds center stage.
As for your example—yes, decisions happen. Debates happen. They seem to arise on their own, and a response follows. That response might involve clarity, confusion, compassion, or contradiction. I’m not saying to suppress that. I’m saying: look closely. Does a separate chooser appear? Or is the choosing just another movement in the field?
So sure—maybe the body-mind rolls like a ball after impact. But it’s also part of the table, and the hand that struck, and the player wondering what shot to take next. No clean separation. No final doctrine. Just what appears.
Thank you very much! I confess I often become quite muddled, and of course ‘interpret/imprint’ things from my thinking on to others. You take a step back from even saying definitively “there is no doer” and suggest the most that can be done is observe - to the best of our recursive ability - what is there. Would that be accurate? I have felt deeply a quiet and a calm, and at a minimum I continue to pursue. And paradoxically, this pursuit can get in the way. Cheers for now!
Yes, that’s closer. I’m not claiming “there is no doer.” I’m pointing out that in direct observation, the doer doesn’t appear—not as an object, not as a phenomenon. What appears is a stream of experience, sometimes including thoughts about a self or agent. But those are just thoughts. The chooser, if you look for it, is never quite found.
And yes, the pursuit itself can reinforce the very structure it hopes to see through. That’s part of the loop: the mind trying to use effort to get free of effort. But even that can be seen. And when it’s seen clearly, it may quiet down on its own.
Glad you’re sitting with these things. No rush. No conclusions needed.
Fuck, this must be the best read I’ve had in a while.
What if I don’t try to escape, what happens then.. Sight, finally some relief. This might not be so bad after all compared to the clinched fist. The contrast is needed to appreciate it for what it is.
Cheers Robert
This post is timely for me. I've been experiencing the truth of this over the past month pretty intensely, because I have been dealing with a very intense period of caretaking for my mother. Everything about the situation has been challenging and very much unwanted. Sometimes my mind is in a tight knot of regret and/or escape fantasy, and it's when that knot loosens, those are the moments of deep relief. "Suffering" through the fear or sadness or confusion feels like peace compared to the stranglehold of wishing it to be otherwise.
Robert, your piece reminds me strongly of something Krishnamurti kept pointing to: that seeking itself is the continuation of the problem. You’re right—most spiritual “solutions” are just escape plans dressed up as insight.
But I think there is a subtle distinction worth holding. It’s not that there’s nothing to do. Krishnamurti would say the very act of seeing suffering without resistance or escape is already the ending of an extra layer of suffering. Not resignation, not management, but a direct perception. The seeing is the action.
Where you describe the present as “unalterable,” he would say: yes, the fact cannot be changed by thought. But when the fact is seen without judgment—without the observer separate from the observed—there is a different kind of change. Not a becoming, but an ending. And in that ending, compassion flowers.
So perhaps the liberation isn’t “nothing to do,” but the ending of false doing. Then the ordinary movements—sitting in the park, watching, caring, laughing—are no longer escapes but expressions of a mind not demanding to be other than it is.
What Krishnamurti missed is this:
You cannot decide what to think next. You think what you think. You cannot DECIDE to see without judgment. You do or you don't.
People spent their entire lives following Krishnamurti. Why?
yes!!! Perfect. I love you so much Robert. You always come up with exactly what I need to hear. Celebration.
What’s interesting is that this “you cannot decide what to think next” insight is actually in line with what Krishnamurti was pointing to. He wasn’t selling a method or a choice—you’re right, you can’t decide to see without judgment like flipping a switch. Judgment arises or it doesn’t.
The reason people followed him is the same reason people follow anyone who touches something raw and unsettling about the human condition: we’re caught in the machinery of thought, craving certainty, craving meaning, and hoping someone has an answer. William James showed how those feelings of certainty can convince us something is “true” when it’s just a passing brain-state. Robert Burton went further and showed that the sense of knowing itself is neurological, not proof. Zapffe called this the “conspiracy against the human race”—that consciousness generates unbearable awareness, and we survive only by deceiving ourselves.
So why did people gather around Krishnamurti? Because he stripped away the usual consolations and exposed the trap. Ironically, that exposure itself became another thing to cling to. That’s the paradox: even the idea of “freedom from authority” can be turned into an authority.
I don’t think that’s quite right.
Yes, Krishnamurti rejected method, practice, tradition, and time. And yes, he emphasized seeing without the “observer”—without the overlay of conditioning. But he still implied that this “choiceless awareness” could happen if one paid attention. He denied becoming, but retained a kind of agency—not in effort, perhaps, but in perception. A responsibility to see, and in that seeing, a transformation.
That’s not my view.
“You cannot decide what to think next” is not a spiritual posture. It’s not a subtle encouragement to try non-doing. It’s a plain observation: the thought that arises is the thought that arises. There’s no backstage self-selecting it. No witness initiating perception. No switch to flip.
If judgment drops away, it does. If clarity dawns, it does. But not because “you” made it happen.
Krishnamurti said, “The moment you see the danger, you act.” But seeing isn’t under your control. Sometimes it occurs. Often it doesn’t. He preserved a hidden volition—he still leaned on “the seeing is the doing.” That’s not negation. That’s a method disguised as insight.
So no, I don’t think we’re saying the same thing. I’m not pointing to a refined kind of doing. I’m denying the whole apparatus, including the “you” who would ever see without judgment.
I hear you. That’s the razor’s edge difference. Krishnamurti still smuggled in a subtle agency—if you pay attention, then…—which keeps a faint echo of volition alive. What you’re saying is more radical: there’s no “if.” There’s no backstage chooser. Thought arises, or it doesn’t. Clarity dawns, or not.
And that’s where the trap shows itself. Even “choiceless awareness” becomes another method if it implies responsibility. What looks like freedom ends up another burden: you must see.
Your point reminds me of Robert Burton’s work on certainty—how the sense of “knowing” is just a brain state. Krishnamurti wanted “the seeing” to cut through conditioning, but the very idea of “the seeing” carries the weight of agency. That’s exactly what Zapffe spotted too: the human tendency to invent coping mechanisms—even the subtlest ones—to bear the burden of awareness.
What you’re pointing to is the collapse of even that. No method, no chooser, no “seeing is the doing.” Just whatever is happening.
I notice in myself this strong sense of responsibility — almost a demand — to act in the face of suffering and chaos. Intellectually I can see what you’re saying: no chooser, no hidden volition, whatever happens is what happens. But experientially, the weight of responsibility still presses.
Maybe that too is just what arises — the impulse to help, to resist, to care. And maybe it doesn’t need to be reconciled with the denial of agency. The “responsibility” isn’t chosen, it’s felt. It appears like any other thought or emotion.
So the paradox is: there is no one behind the curtain making it happen, but when compassion or responsibility shows up, it shows up with force. And action follows. Not because “I” decided, but because that’s what the chaos is doing in this moment.
Yes. That’s right.
The impulse to help, to resist, to care—none of that is denied. What’s denied is authorship. The idea that there’s a “you” behind the impulse, choosing it, weighing it, making it happen. There isn’t.
The confusion enters when we smuggle responsibility back in as a kind of virtue. Not as moralism, perhaps, but as a presumed clarity: I see, therefore I must act. But even that is theater after the fact. The seeing, the impulse, the action—they arise or they don’t. No rehearsal. No decider.
You’re correct to say that Krishnamurti left a trace of agency in the frame. A kind of last-ditch nobility: if you really see, the false drops away. But that “if” is fatal. It opens the door to striving, to self-monitoring, to the very machinery he meant to dismantle.
What remains here is simpler. The thought arises, the feeling arises, the hand moves—or doesn’t. Even the sense of responsibility is just part of the weather. It can be strong. It can drive action. But no one’s driving it.
Very thought provoking and artfully written, Robert. I am not a devotee of any path or guru, but Eckhart Tolle advocates for accepting whatever the present moment contains, just as it is. We may find ourself getting irritated, emotional, reactive; but we can then notice ourself going unconscious and catch it before we fully are. Getting back to being conscious provides the optimal chance for effectively handling the situation. My commitment then is to remain conscious as much as possible.
Thanks. But let’s take a closer look.
You say, “We may find ourself getting irritated… but we can then notice ourself going unconscious and catch it…” That sounds plausible on the surface, but who is the “we” here? And what exactly is doing the noticing? If irritation already arose, then so did the conditions that led to it. If noticing occurs, that too arises unbidden. No one chose it.
Tolle speaks of “remaining conscious” as if consciousness were a stance one could assume—like good posture. But by the time one is reactive, the so-called unconsciousness is already in motion. Noticed or not, it’s what’s happening. The idea that we can “catch it” and steer back to presence is comforting, but I see no evidence that it works that way.
Awareness isn’t a commitment. It’s a condition that comes and goes. You don’t remain conscious. Noticing is there, or not. No one’s steering.
Robert, Thank you for your comments. I respect you and don't mean to argue, but my continued intention and practice to remain as "conscious" as I can has resulted in my personal growth. It's not just an intellectual exercise, but as I said, is an intention to which I have committed, and practice by noticing negative changes in my thoughts and emotional state that indicate I have been triggered. At that moment when I recognize the signs, I have a choice to either remain controlled by the ego mind, which loves to judge, be right, and project anger onto others, or to pause, take a breath or two, and reclaim my conscious awareness beyond ego mind. In that moment, I can perceive more, understand from a broader perserctive, and even have compassion for those I initially intended to chastise. This practive has helped me handle difficult situations more effectively and regain peace more quickly. Thanks for listening.
Nothing to argue about, Joseph. I just say what I see. Your mileage may vary.
Hey Robert! Hope life's okay at the moment....
It seems to me that all of spirituality is about improving things for ourselves through deliberate practice - whatever that might look like. And, as you say, that premise us flawed.
However, I'm now of the opinion that it IS possible to increase the LIKELIHOOD of the arising of moments of clear seeing, by putting ourselves more often in situations that encourage noticing what arises....just sitting, just listening to music, just people-watching, just being out in nature etc.
The cumulative effect is, in my experience, more frequent moments of clear seeing and, consequently, contentment.
And this makes sense...we redraw neural pathways and create new neurons when we repeat an activity...
Just my take on it, as I said...😂
.
.not "us flawed", but "is flawed"🙄
Most of my life has been spent trying to avoid / escape the shitstorm.
Now, just standing in the midst of it, letting everything just be what it is, doesn't take any of it away, or make it "better". However, I am finding out that what you have said all along, about stopping the avoidance and escapism, and facing / being what actually is, has a resounding ring to it. A ring that seems to make sense. In spite of how I might feel, or what I might think.
Standing, even walking through the storm (aka: life on planet Earth) has taken on a whole different aspect that I can't really explain, but it's astonishing nonetheless.
Thank you Robert...
What a magnificent piece of writing. At every turn we are confronted with what is. As you read it, you can feel it.
This morning the sky was filled with pink clouds. I drove to the store in my bathrobe to get cream for my coffee. On the way back I saw two crows pecking at a large rat which appeared to be injured; for some reason I like rats. Briefly considered stopping my car and trying to help the rat but did not. It still feels weird. It also reminds me of the situation in Gaza…Joan T would say it’s all part of the whole….whatever. But it still feels wrong and yet I am unable to do anything about it. That children are bombed and starved is not right.
Of course it's not right. Meanwhile, someone will send the steak back to the kitchen because it's not rare enough, or the wine is not sufficiently chilled. There's no justice in this world.
Oh and today I broke a nail. 😼
So Robert what do we do? Nothing doesn’t feel right. donate to Doctors Without Borders in Gaza?
Good idea. We can't repair the world, but anything to help is better than nothing.
Beautiful
Another little gem, Robert.
When I read "...the present moment is unalterable," I flashed back on the experience of watching the best / worst parts of the 1979 movie, Alien.
Moments later I read that all the profound and lofty thoughts about spiritual stuff could be summed up as ".. just another idea floating in the thought bubble above your your head," and I was laughing out loud. What a fun contrast!
There's no accurate caption to what I'm feeling now, rather relaxed and open. Relevant or not, I admit to seeing the word "freedom" in this here thought bubble.
That doubt is there, and that long abiding seeking. And that's all folks.
There is what it is. Just one.
And those who choose to stay near it, rest near what it is.
And those who wander away can only come to more of what is not.
And, because it is what is not, it is more and more fraught with less than what it is.
What it is is not wonderful – it just is what it is – with all of its mortality, aging, meaninglessness and death.
Things cannot get better than what it is. Beyond what it is lies only dreams, illusions, hopes and fears.
Robert - I’ve only just begun to ‘follow’ you, and I realize this is an older post, but it really helped clarify what I think your position is…and definitely helped put things in context with a back and forth I read between you and Joan Tollifson.
In that conversation you said something like, “let the floor completely drop”. And by that, and this article, I believe what you’re saying is that the only thing you truly know is that there is no separate self. Anything after that - one consciousness, etc - is conjecture, theory and cannot truly be known. And yes, there is a longing for more, but that is not proof nor could be proof of something more within our redundant thought loop. Fair enough. I am choosing for now that there is something larger and deeper.
What I find extremely difficult is reconciling ‘no self / no doer’ AND my daily actions. Let’s take the analogy (completely inadequate but aren’t they all) of a pool ball rolling along after be struck. In the ‘no self / no doer’ all that ball can do (my body/mind) is roll along and at best just observe, correct? And yet it feels we are called upon all day long to ‘make decisions’. Tea or coffee? Support genocide, or fight against? How does one relax into the roll, and yet make decisions? Just see what comes up? Or (and just now guessing this may be right) see what comes up and roll with it? Give to Doctors Without Borders…have a nice cup of coffee and sit in the sun. Whatever comes up. Fine to be aware, fine to internally debate…it’s just that there is no self or doer debating or making the decision. The decision will be made.
Hi Dean—
Thanks for reading with care. But just to clarify: I don't say there is no separate self. I don’t say there is one, either. I simply don’t see any basis for making metaphysical claims in either direction. “No separate self” can become just another belief if it’s taken as a final answer. And if it’s true in some ultimate sense, I wouldn’t know that. I’m describing what’s observable—not drawing conclusions beyond what appears.
That said, I do speak about what I see. And what I see is that the experience of being a self—a chooser, a doer, an author of thought—is recursive and contingent. It arises in a loop of memory, affect, language, and narrative pressure. And when that loop quiets down or becomes transparent, the sense of doership can soften. That doesn’t mean no action occurs. It just means the idea that “I am the one doing it” no longer holds center stage.
As for your example—yes, decisions happen. Debates happen. They seem to arise on their own, and a response follows. That response might involve clarity, confusion, compassion, or contradiction. I’m not saying to suppress that. I’m saying: look closely. Does a separate chooser appear? Or is the choosing just another movement in the field?
So sure—maybe the body-mind rolls like a ball after impact. But it’s also part of the table, and the hand that struck, and the player wondering what shot to take next. No clean separation. No final doctrine. Just what appears.
Thanks again for the thoughtful note.
—Robert
Thank you very much! I confess I often become quite muddled, and of course ‘interpret/imprint’ things from my thinking on to others. You take a step back from even saying definitively “there is no doer” and suggest the most that can be done is observe - to the best of our recursive ability - what is there. Would that be accurate? I have felt deeply a quiet and a calm, and at a minimum I continue to pursue. And paradoxically, this pursuit can get in the way. Cheers for now!
Hi Dean—
Yes, that’s closer. I’m not claiming “there is no doer.” I’m pointing out that in direct observation, the doer doesn’t appear—not as an object, not as a phenomenon. What appears is a stream of experience, sometimes including thoughts about a self or agent. But those are just thoughts. The chooser, if you look for it, is never quite found.
And yes, the pursuit itself can reinforce the very structure it hopes to see through. That’s part of the loop: the mind trying to use effort to get free of effort. But even that can be seen. And when it’s seen clearly, it may quiet down on its own.
Glad you’re sitting with these things. No rush. No conclusions needed.
—Robert
Wonderful post and comments. Provocative.