Homeostasis

Source: geograph.org.uk

In one of the episodes of The Big Bang Theory, the character Dr. Sheldon Cooper mentions that he is a fan of homeostasis or in layman's terms, the state where things don't change. Sheldon Cooper hates change (and is shown going bananas every time there is a major change) and who really likes change, especially when it's sudden?

Change can be especially painful when it's not planned for and like a kick to a house of cards, it throws the careful order we've built into our lives into disarray.

On the other hand, I recently watched a documentary called Varanasi, India: "Beyond" and in this film the interview with an aghori sadhu touched a chord within me for some reason. The sadhu mentioned that everything was an illusion. No surprise there. It's a concept that's pretty much standard fare for Buddhism and other esoteric religions.

And then the sadhu continued by saying that because everything is illusion, everything is subject to change. The people around us, the things we own, even the buildings and structures themselves could all be gone in an instant, because that is precisely what underlines the impermanence of this reality.

So this begs the question, if an individual resists change and cannot accept it, does it mean that person is more enmeshed in maya than the one who can embrace change or at least not unduly agonize over it?

And so we find ourselves at the heart of what esoteric spiritual practices have been teaching us for all these ages: detachment. Detachment allows us to more easily embrace the inevitable change that life brings.

Careers can end, friends will move on, loved ones will pass, even our bodies will eventually be gone. It's simply inevitable, but detachment should allow us to experience those changes without getting hitched on the idea of what we have lost but rather to accept that it simply is and move on and adapt from there.

It's not a comfortable thought, but if it was easy then we wouldn't need lifetimes to mark the way along our trek to enlightenment.

Markers

lifestyle.howstuffworks.com

We are so attached to the things that describe us. "That's the dude who's good in programming." "He likes role playing games." "She's a really good artist." "He really gets along with people." I'm sure you can fill in the blanks. These descriptors are important in the sense that they give a point of reference that others can relate to when they interact with you.

The problem arises when you lose the very thing that used to describe you. That's why losing a job is so stressful. Or why it's so frustrating not to be able to do a sport anymore because of chronic injuries. And why it's so traumatic to lose someone. In each case you lose a reference point, a marker on how you, and others, see yourself and your place in the world.

I'm not saying it's unimportant, just that it's nice to have a little perspective. The easiest example would be a sensory deprivation chamber. Without the physical cues, then it's impossible to physically act. That's why there are emotional cues, mental cues and spiritual cues, and these are the cues that we attach to ourselves so that we may function, albeit temporarily, in this world.

And why not extend this thought to the premise that perhaps the personality, from the point of view of the soul, is one such anchor to the workings of this world? If we didn’t have an identity or personality, there would be nothing to segregate us from the All, because spirit is homogeneous. So there must be an anchor point that allows the spirit to differentiate.

If a career, for example, is the reference point that most people identify with, then perhaps for the soul it’s the personality or identity it uses to differentiate its existence in this world. And going higher in the spiritual realms, as described by the sages of old, the individual self-identity becomes the illusion and as we move closer to the Source, less and less of what differentiates us from others exists until there is only One.