In every stage so far, there had been the sense of a witness observing what was happening in a detached way. Interestingly, the Buddha advocates seeing through even that subtle form of identification. So how does living feel to someone who has seen through the illusion of the witness? Well, there is still witnessing as an activity, but without a witness, just like there is thinking without a thinker, doing without a doer, etc. Witnessing is seen as just one more function that the organism does naturally. It is like having a point of view in drawing, a perspective. But there is no need to identify as a witness, as a separate uninvolved observer.
There is an embracing of this organism’s humanity and animality, compassion for the fearful, skittish cat in it, admiration for its abilities, understanding for its failings, joy in its successes. All those feelings then extend naturally to other beings, humans and non-humans.For me seeing through the illusion of the witness happened first during a retreat in March 2007 when I noticed that the void I had been looking at was of the same nature as the void that is perceived when trying to look back at the witness, as the one behind the eyes. I discovered that making a mental gesture akin to falling backwards led to a deep letting go, deeper even than letting go of the doer. It was a letting go that soon led to concrete changes in behaviour.
One thing I noticed was that if I let go (fall backward mentally, get out of the way) while skiing, the slight fear that kept me from skiing well fell away and I could ski fast and smoothly for the first time in my life. Not a deep spiritual event for sure, but indicative of the depth to which the letting go was happening. It parallels Jan Frazier’s experience that she reports in her autobiography When Fear Falls Away. The second concrete change that I noticed was that a slight neurosis that I had since childhood just dropped away, demonstrating that insights can occasionally cure neurosis without the need for psychotherapy. The neurosis that I had is sometimes dubbed “shy bladder”, i.e. that I could not void in the presence of another person, no matter how hard I tried. Again, no big deal, but it meant that I had to wait for a stall in the men’s room if I wasn’t the only one using the urinals, a small inconvenience unless one is wearing a one-piece ski powder suit… I found out that by “falling backward” mentally, getting out of the way, I was able to use the urinals right next to other men for the first time in my life. The mental blockage had gone on its own, demonstrating again how deep in the subconscious the letting go could reach.
Another way in which I let go of the witness occurred when I let go of my fascination with the void after reading an article by Thanissaro Bhikkhu. In it he says that attachment to the deathless (that’s one of the classic names for the void in the Theravada tradition) is a common blockage for many practitioners once they get continuous access to it. Liberation requires that you let go of every clinging or aversion, even clinging to such sublime experience as the deathless. Since the void is always there whenever I turn my attention to it, I don’t have to grasp for it. I can just let go of it, secure in the knowledge that it is now part of this mind and leave it at that.
Another turning point occurred when I clearly saw that the awareness process continuously operates on its own in the background, no matter what. Indeed, it cannot be stopped even if I wanted to. It is a totally automatic, effortless mental activity. There was a deep relief associated with that insight. It is out of “my” hands. I can relax, confident that awareness keeps doing its job without any need for “my” involvement.