07/31/2024
The Trapped Trapper
Imagine that you are walking down a path, and you step into a trap with a poisonous snare. The wire around your ankle cuts into your skin and injects you with a particular type of anesthesia. The effect of the poison is that you can’t feel the noose holding you in place, and it dulls your spatial perception so that you are hardly aware of your body. So, you lose awareness of your present situation and have no memory or notion that you are caught in a trap. You can look out at the immense dramas that play out in the distance. You can imagine you are participating in the world that is passing you by. There seems to be a good reason to exert effort and struggle. There is also infinite stimulation available for your reactions and judgments that really seem to matter somehow.
The reality, however, is that your effort only pulls at the snare that repeatedly subjugates you to a delusional existence in a futile and ineffectual struggle. You are still stuck, tied to a log snared by your ankle, wriggling around and making inconsequential noises. Imagine that with every pull, it cuts deeper, revitalizing the poison in your blood. The harder you struggle, the more you hurt yourself. It becomes apparent that you are powerless and ineffective at changing anything, but you simply don’t know why. You know in your heart something is wrong, but you just don’t have cause to look where you should for a solution. You don’t even know what the problem truly is. Your efforts are meaningless in this subversive trap. In time, you begin to feel helpless and defeated. nihilism, despair, resentment, or victimhood become the only identities that seem to fit. After all, you still have your mind, but without the knowledge of the trap you are in, you can only come to one logical conclusion: The world is broken. The problem is outside of me. The problem is other people and a cursed existence.
Now, imagine that you sit down and surrender. As you close your eyes, a question appears to you. “What if I’m wrong?” You wonder, “What if I’m missing something?” “Is there anything I can do?” “What could I change for the better?” You exhaust your mind, looking for an answer, and realize you can only think about what you already know but are looking for something you don’t yet know. So, you try asking people walking by; they have all sorts of answers that reveal nothing about you, instead only things about them. You can’t change any of that. So, you decide to pray to the Universe, God, Allah, Pachamama, Jesus, Brahman, Santa Claus, Dao, and anyone who may hear you. But what do you ask for?
You decide to simply ask for help. As soon as you do, you realize that no one will come to help you, and if they did, you wouldn’t be able to tell them how to help anyway. You are undeniably alone. So, you think of asking a higher power to reveal what you are ignorant about that could save you. Immediately after asking, you realize you don’t know where to look to receive that answer if it comes. So, you get frustrated and yell out, “Show me where to look while you are at it!” Realizing it’s hopeless, and you are talking to yourself like a fool, you cry and sob. Your eyes are forced closed by the burning tears and pain of despair. Your mind surrenders, and you decide to give up and die. As you lie in that darkness, you discover it isn’t empty. It is full of something, but you don’t know what it is exactly. It seems like the truth of who you are, but it’s enormous. You can’t quite look at it, but you seem to be able to feel it. Without thought or description, you allow that feeling to expand inside of you. Even though it is terrifying, you simply don’t have any fight left to stop it. It completely consumes you and then seems to spread outside of you as well.
This feeling becomes you, and you suddenly remember that it is you. Like you were asleep and dreaming about the other you that was full of fear and defeat. You no longer feel fear. With a deep exhale, you release the memory of the scared little you and open your eyes. Directly in view from your bowed head is a shiny, glimmering light. With curiosity, you pay attention to it. It reveals itself as a reflection glimmering from a clean spot of a bloody wire. The wire is wrapped tightly around an ankle.
A sudden but subtle ironic chuckle cracks your face, and your steady hands reach out with grace. You watch them move with care and remove the snare with supreme simplicity. It is as the way always is, simple and fair. Immediately, the welcome pain of truth returns to sober the sly subversive lie. The pain from the wound on your ankle grows as the poison metabolizes like a rising sun, burning away the fog of delusion and despair. With clarity, you stand and look into the distance. You weep in desperate gratitude for the honest pain, the long journey ahead, and the great difficulty of the path beset you. You walk forward, not with the frantic energy of someone trying to escape but with the calm assurance of someone who has found their true path.
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