Evan Renaerts

Who’s On First

December 10, 2007

Sunlight and warmth melt heavy frost from the neighbouring rooftops; the stripped bare tree limbs and branches are etched against a washed-blue sky.

I talk to and listen to a lot of people as a natural part of my work. The one common thread that runs through all of these conversations, whether about work, money, hopes, family, fears and challenges, is the first person singular – I.

It doesn’t matter if it is my story or yours; or if it is a story of success or failure or some scenario about the future, at the center of the story is “I.” This isn’t wrong or something to feel bad about; this is simply the ego functioning to survive.

We can take it as a given that the vast majority of humanity enters life with this self-centered perspective and that most of us never completely outgrow it, nor see any compelling reason why we should. What finally moves us away from the “I” at the center of the universe is a realization of how limited this perspective is.

The self-centered perspective sees everything past, present and future as having to do specifically with them. Hence, all fear and anxiety are about the diminishment of the “I”, whether through loss or shame or ultimately death. Anger, hatred and greed are all “I-centered” strategies for protecting or expanding this limited sense of self.

Even love, the noblest of human emotions, can be not much more than a nicely dressed expression of selfish self-interest, where the “other’s” adoration of “you” is what sustains the love. On the flip side of this equation is the martyr who gives their all for the sake of another because that is the only way they get a sense of value for their “I.”

Once you glimpse the shallowness and the emptiness of this relationship to life there can awaken a hunger for some greater understanding – a relationship to life where I am part of it but not all and not the center. Every genuine spiritual teaching throughout human history has had, as one of the primary goals, this lessening of the ego- centered view.

The famous Zen Ox-herding drawings begin with a wild ox as the symbol of the untamed mind, the self-centered mind. Gradually the awakened part of the self begins to tame the ox until over time the ox will follow wherever the master goes. Finally the master and the ox become one and then both disappear into wholeness.

The master does not hate the untamed part of herself nor try to push it away nor destroy it; she embraces it and loves it while being unshakeably determined to live a life beyond the confines of self-centeredness.

Real joy comes when we are able to know our selves within a greater context -to be aware of self here in this room, in this building, this city, this country, this universe. We see that we are like threads in a tapestry of unimaginable proportions and we come into a sense of right-size.

There is a transitory self, a very small and limited self which, is living and working through all of life’s phenomena. And there is a great Self that exists outside of time and place and which observes the whole of this passing parade in complete peace.

The way to the great self is through the willingness to be a part of the whole. We stop blaming people and situations and we stop asking the world to change in order for us to be happy.

Evan Renaerts
604 314 0835
evan@evanrenaerts.com