A book I was reading the other day, Another Heart in his Hand by J. Jaye Gold, prompted me to contemplate separation.
Being a separate entity has been something that has just been taken for granted by me for my entire life. I am an individual person with a separate life from yours. I’m over here and you’re over there. When I stub my toe, you don’t say “ow!”
So, separation seemed like a given from the start.
But then we aren’t given any reason to question this a priori assumption from our culture. Our culture is built on striving, on achieving, on being the best at something and to be the best, you have to be better than the rest. Separation is built in.
But in reflecting on what separation actually is and what it feels like, I know there have been small glimpses of moments in my life where I haven’t felt separate at all. During satoris, for example. At times when sitting with my awake teacher. Sometimes, I can find that space when I’m self-enquiring by myself at home. Rarely, but still occasionally, these moments of feeling like I have no boundaries and am just floating in spacious nothingness come to visit me in a regular old morning meditation.
So, there are these brief interludes where separation doesn’t seem to be such a given. It doesn’t feel like separation is built into the human experience. In fact, it feels like there is another distinct possibility, that we are all connected at the ground level and it is only an appearance of separation at the surface that has us all convinced.
I must admit, it’s quite a convincing appearance. So much so, that it doesn’t really encourage one to look beyond it. But look beyond it we can.
I’ve recently had a son and it’s been so fascinating watching him come into his own. Realise an identity. Grow. Develop. Walk and talk.
Part of the reason it’s been so amazing to me is because of this idea of separation.
From all the literature I’ve read, babies tend not to even realise that they are separate from Mum until between 6 and 9 months of age. Up until that point, they experience Mum-and-me. It is one entity. There is no distinction. What I am feeling, Mum must be feeling. Where I am, Mum is also. What I dislike, Mum clearly also dislikes, because we are the same.
Another thing I learned is that young babies perceive the world as kind of like a blob. It’s just big bundle of goo and it’s hard to tell what objects in my environment are. It’s hard to distinguish between things. It kind of all blends together in my world.
At some point, though, that way of perceiving things starts to break down. Baby watches Mum walk out of the room and not come back. Baby realises Mum has a will of her own. Baby now knows that Mum can do her own thing and that means my security isn’t guaranteed. What a terrifying realisation!!!
We all go through this kind of individuation process. Where we develop an identity all of our own.
Watching Jude start to say “no” and throw really strong tantrums has been full on, but it’s all part of this process for him. He’s becoming a little toddler and is growing into a man. He is a no longer a baby. And he’s certainly no longer inside Mum getting fed through a conveniently located tube and suspended in warm, cosy liquid.
He’s separating.
Necessary for the developmental process, but also fucking scary!
Now, he’s dangling in space by himself with no security base.
He’s got two loving parents who care about him very much, but that’s not the same thing.
It’s not the same as being physically attached or even being aware of the ground of being via which we are all attached.
It’s an insecure state to exist in.
That separation doesn’t have to be a life sentence though and we can work to examine how real this feeling of separateness actually is and what might be beyond it. I believe (I say believe and not know, because it’s not always my experience) that we are all one and that we are more connected than we know, but I also believe that it takes diligence and patience and work to remove the obstacles to seeing that clearly in every moment.
This idea of separation doesn’t only apply up and out towards the collective, but also down and in via our interior lives. We have many parts of us that all battle and compete for attention and control of our psyche at any given moment. Some parts we shun and repress and keep buried, others we like and identify with and are proud of and we love allowing those to the surface. We have exiled parts that carry trauma and wounding for us, protector parts that try to keep us safe from harm and get activated when triggered and manager parts that work to keep it all together and appear as one cohesive whole.
Some parts of more primitive than others. Some parts act in an ambassador role and become our public face because they are more sophisticated and acceptable in the eyes of others. We all have thousands of parts inside of us. We are not one thing. You are not in control of you most of the time. If you’ve ever done any psychotherapy, you’ll know this to be true.
We have parts of us that behave like animals. Animals that just want to eat and fuck and sleep and not much else. Very simple. And we have parts of us that want to have careers and be an active part of the community and raise a family and be compassionate. The more “evolved” parts of our pre-frontal cortex or the latter part of human development, let’s say.
But, these parts don’t have to remain seperate either. They can be cohered and operate as a whole. Held together by a part of ourselves that is the wise one, that is conscious of and witnesses all parts and their agendas and functions and accepts and creates space for all. Again, this is my belief. It is not my experience, yet. But I believe it is a possibility for all humans.
This is what healing is.
This is what wholeness is.
This is what higher consciousness is.
This is what self-actualisation is.
Maybe, just maybe, you can find out if this is true for you too.