Do you ever wish you could have what someone else is experiencing? Maybe you see someone having bliss, or adventure, or passion, or happiness, or mind-blowing expansion, and you wish you could have it, too. Have you ever felt this? I mean, who wouldn’t want all of that?
I witnessed this last night at a breath workshop, where one of the participants had an expansive experience with exquisite visions, and the woman next to her was having something different, something more, earthly. Physical. This woman was wishing she could have visions, too. “I’d like that!” she said. “It sounds fun! Will that happen for me if I keep going at this?”
She was gracefully showing me this thing we do, where we see something and wish to have it for ourselves. Perfectly natural, yes? I’ve done it many times (envy, anyone?). But such desires, which are always telling us that our own experience is less than ideal, are guaranteed to do one thing, and it sure isn’t to escort us to ecstasy! Wishing for another’s life takes us fully out of the experience we’re having, and what we’re having is where all of the life is! So when we wish ourselves away, we’re not there. Obvious, I know, but isn’t it funny? As if experience could ever be borrowed, or had as a surrogate. Surrogate life doesn’t feel very satisfying. It’s flat and bland to experience our life from a distance.
And here’s what else she showed me. You, me, and our experience of our lives as who and what we are, is the most amazing feast we could ever imagine. Wishing to have what someone else is having is like seeing a picture of their feast on a piece of cardboard and licking it, hoping to get the flavor, nourishment and pleasure of the spread. But it isn’t real if it isn’t ours. It’s just a picture on the cardboard. No fun to eat!
So we come back to what we’re having. Right here, right now. Which, amazingly enough, can actually include the energy of ecstasies (or miseries!) around us, but experienced through us rather than through longing for something on the outside. When we have our own feast (i.e. our own experience with our full presence) we will be nourished and satisfied and delighted beyond our hearts’ content. Everything we desire, hope for, love, and are, is already on the plate of our own experience, waiting for the brilliant presence of us to taste and delight in it. Truly. Hungry, anyone?