Storytelling

When we allow ourselves to truly observe the infinite majesty of the universe, we stand speechless and story-less. We recognize the futility of our attempts to contain the limitless and the infinite within our conceptual reference points. We stand in a state of momentary humility and awe.

So what is storytelling? In Byron Katie’s book Who Would You Be Without Your Story? the author discusses storytelling as a way in which the mind keeps itself occupied and sustained by dictating the nature of reality. Our stores are like blankets we use to cover what is, instead of experiencing it directly as it is.

Byron Katie asks the question, “Who would you be without your story?” Which is, of course, is another form of Self Inquiry. A question that I like to ask is, “What might you see without your story?” If you look at the sunset on the water, what might you see without your story? If you looked at a flower, and allowed it to tell you what it is in its Beingness, what might you see? When looking up at the night sky, what if instead of assuming that you are the expert on which constellation is where, or if that object is a star, a satellite, or Pluto. What if instead you just allowed the night sky to tell you what it is?

I notice that when I watch a sunset without imposing my story, it has an absolute sincerity. Its beauty is unmoving and infinitely sustained. As long as you are absorbed in telling life what it is through your habitual mind-stories, you are robbed of the infinite complexity, and the awe-inspiring wonder of every moment.

There’s a Zen story that involves a master pouring water into a student’s cup until it starts overflowing. The student says anxiously, “Master, you’re overflowing my cup. The tea that you’re pouring is no longer going into the cup. It’s falling to the ground.” To which the Zen master replied, “You’re like this cup. You’re too full of ideas, beliefs, and concepts. Empty yourself of these,” he said as he emptied the cup, “and there will be room for you to be filled with more prajna.” which is the Buddhist term for or wisdom. It’s the same with storytelling. Our stories fill our perceptual cups. The nature of things has already been decided. It’s not up to you to determine reality. Practicing the wisdom of Zen means emptying yourself of your stories, and in doing so, enjoying the basic goodness and essential kindness which is the true nature of the universe.

I love the word projection because it reminds me of the old movie projectors. I see a guy turning a crank in order to give power to a device that creates an image on the screen. I like this analogy because I think it accurately represents the nature of the mind. A consistent theme that exists in the teachings of all awakened masters, is that what you see out there, is in fact the projection of your mind.

You might as well be at the movies, except you’re the director of this film. You’re also the screenwriter, the editor, and the entire production team. To quote the Buddha, “It’s all your mind.”

The issue is that we forget it’s a movie, that it’s temporary, and that ultimately it’s not real. We momentarily forget that we are in the director’s seat. We start to take the movie very seriously, and we lose ourselves in our projected screen images. You can lose the ‘You’ that is the invulnerable, silent, ground of Being, the ‘You’ that is whole and perfect forever. Thus, the once happy dream becomes more of a nightmare.

Fortunately, it doesn’t have to be this way. You can deeply enjoy the beauty of your movie. You can even enjoy the drama and the excitement that comes with inhabiting a human body. There’s a reason that in Hinduism they use the term “lila” to describe the manifest world, which translates as, “God’s Play.” Or to quote Shakespeare, “All the world’s a stage.” The experience of life in a human body that is not contaminated with false identification has the potential of being immensely joyful...READ MORE