A talk at Losing Shadow Temple

This is an existential reflection, and a confession, from within the conditions of worldly, experiential life. It is about my bodily existence, and the falling into the realm of Energy and Spirit. When I say this, I do not mean to offer a sentimental story, nor do I intend to dwell, at this point, on the wonder, beauty, and joy.
Rather, I wish to share a strength, a grounded ness, an acceptance, and a felt fragility, arising through a profound human relationship that has happened, where everything about bodily life is confronted: the sheer delight of bodily intimacy, and the shattering of the deep illusion of “me” and its conditions.
Ultimately, all this leads to confronting the embodiment of death as it dissolves the personality, allowing me to respect and absorb the deep emotions that define what it truly means to be human.

I have always liked the word “craft’, enjoying one's craft, the art of life shaping, blending the practical with the creative urge to play, invent, and the form of art by being; by living.

Tonight, I want to speak about my evolving understanding of love, and the process of letting go, of absorbing life’s experiences and their mysterious, eventual end. This, to me, is the craft of living.

My perspective on these matters has changed through the shifting terrain of my own perception.

By “stage,” I do not only mean age, though age has its part, but more so the on-going acceptance of a fluid energy that is always in motion, even as I honour the unchanging essence within us all.

In this new chapter, I still see that the essence of Life never truly changes; only the clarity of my perception becomes transparent. But what is this clarity? It is the gradual shedding of heavy judgments, the old stories; the juxtaposition of what life is and what I am.

I have played both victim and perpetrator in my mind. Sometimes, I felt like a turtle trapped in a bottle: aware of the world, yet sealed beneath an ‘invisible glass ceiling’.

A key lesson has been learning to release those stories, as if they had something to do with enlightenment.

I speak of the tangible world, but not ignoring the deeper meanings woven through daily life.

I am reminded of the Zen saying: “Let go or be dragged.” In embracing this wisdom, I discover a new kind of “floating”, an existence less bound by fixed ideas of who I am, and of what I have endured.

Throughout life, I have seen that dualism is the currency of the world. In engaging with right and wrong, I believed I always needed to be either ‘for’ or ‘against’ something.

But this reflection is a meditation on Life itself, moving beyond the boundaries of psychology or philosophy, beyond the intellectual knots in which we so often ensnare ourselves. Now, I observe how dualism creates friction within, urging us to compete with ourselves, and spawning ethical dilemmas that shift with our evolving values.

Especially in the past two years, I have looked beyond what we habitually call “relevant,” watching how actions unfold in the ever-fluctuating landscape of the mind, with its contradictions, paradoxes, and hypocrisies.

In all this, there is much to reflect upon, enough “hay in the barn” to chew for a lifetime.

One central insight is about trust: not as leverage for results, but as openness, even when outcomes disappoint. Conditional trust inevitably breeds hurt; not just because of betrayal, but because the giving was transactional, not free. This has been a deep lesson seeing how easily we attach ourselves, seeking something in return, instead of offering ourselves freely.

Depending on external validation is fickle and fleeting. Again and again, I am reminded: the true heart of life is in being, not in seeking, expecting, or striving for return. As the wisdom goes, “When walking, walk. When eating, eat.” It is such a great remembrance to let us not overcomplicate being; let us rest in the fullness of each moment.

Along the way, I have witnessed much about our humanity our loyalties, our ever-changing sense of “truth.” All of these shape my on-going journey with Life, Love, and the craft of letting go.

Through acceptance, shedding, observation, and the lived paradox, I am brought into direct contact with love at its roots. To truly give yourself, you must allow the shedding of many skins: moving from the plump survival of youth to the transparent death cloak you wear as age passes through you.

I no longer wish merely to endure or wait; I want to participate, to shape, and to be transformed, aware that even our seemingly sense of will and choice is never so simple.

Reflect for a moment with Richard Dawkins and Robert Sapolsky, who illuminate our reality from scientific and evolutionary perspectives. Dawkins writes, “We exist in the middle world. We are compounded of atoms, but we don’t directly experience atoms. Nor do we directly experience mountains or planets. We see their surfaces, but even those, strictly speaking, are mostly empty space and not solid at all in the way we think.” To accept and enjoy what we have been given is to realize the limits, and the beauty, of our place within the middle range.

Sapolsky reminds us how little control we truly have: “Every act you perform, every thought you have, every emotion you feel, is the result of biological processes that began before you even realized you were deciding.” To accept this is to embrace both our beauty and our limitations; to recognize transformation, but also to admit that nothing is ever done by our will alone.

Our personalities are shaped by forces far beyond our self-conscious efforts.

Seen in this light, living with clarity, is not about gaining more control, but about letting go, participating, relating, accepting, and trusting the body that is woven into larger currents, the forces that we are.

If we truly feel these subtle, tender truths, these binds of judgements, what arises is a freedom that transcends the capitalist mindset, a mindset that has so thoroughly moulded our culture and ways of thinking that our very senses have been tricked and manipulated, as if pricked and sewn shut like a voodoo doll.
We have believed the pain was ours alone, we have collecting strange burdens, strange thoughts and dreams and hiding them in our pockets: odd tics, silent afflictions, half-choked, half-held breaths. These are symptoms of an energetic malaise, a visitation of capitalism upon our lives.

Whether or not we permit ourselves to contemplate and feel, it remains an illusion:

You are the free one, the floating one, the one of quiet bravery, strong and unwavering in that certainty. There is no fault in this attitude.

It is possible to live within that middle realm, to live knowing you do not possess individual will. It is possible, because it is already happening.

This is the One who enters with me, and the One who departs.

Arohananda