Insight Note

What anchor holds me steady and keeps me nourished?

I sit with two different states inside myself: the gloomy, weak, passive, negative one — and the positive, energetic, creative, committed one. And I try to work out some of the conditions that activate and nourish the second one in me.

I’ve observed this, and I’ve noticed how much it repeats itself in my life. One is the unconscious “part,” the habitual part of me that shows up constantly in daily life. It’s usually passive, lowly, voiceless, fearful, uncertain. Whatever it does, it’s flustered, never quite clear. Sometimes it doesn’t dare show itself at all. That’s the part I don’t much like. It’s constantly not: no ability, no expertise, no money, nothing at all, knows nothing. God, a pile of nots. It restricts my thinking, my action, my imagination, my willingness to commit. Because everywhere it looks, it sees no way out. Blocked, bothered, blue, going round and round a roundabout. I’m not sure how this part got fed. But it has been leading me for a long time now. It needs to rest, to be composted, to ferment. So it can turn into something else — something more nourishing, richer in nutrients, and actually usable.

Another part is what you might call intuition. He’s sharper, more supple, better at improvising, and — importantly — proactive in everything. Sensing and reasoning at once. Very balanced.

I’ve realized there are certain conditions that activate the intuitive part inside me. It demands that I change how I live, how I think, how I behave. It doesn’t just come alive on its own. I have to tend to my eating, my sleeping, my home, my living space, my own rhythm of life. That’s the natural thing, the thing in harmony with the unique being that I am, the thing that distinguishes me from others. When I do that, I naturally know what I need to do, because I can lean on the intelligence inside me; and I take in the signals from around me and respond appropriately. Going along with nature instead of fighting it.

In the moment I sat contemplating and writing this down, I also felt a fresh source of energy — though not exactly fresh; more like a free, unconstrained energy being generated. As if the life-breath in me were being regenerated and set circulating again. I want to do things that are constructive, disciplined, creative, building. This energy points me strongly toward making things. It invites me to write rap, prose, poetry, to research, to learn, to develop my mind. It also pushes me to move my body — exercise, martial arts. That sort of thing. It pushes me to sleep early and wake early. It calls me to discipline, to writing, to contemplation every day.

My one obstacle is that I have no anchor point to hold me in place, to keep me from slipping into that gloomy, pessimistic, defeated state; sometimes forgetting altogether the beautiful being, the radiant character I already have. The greatest loss is that it makes me forget how to feel beauty, to feel my own body and mind, and forget how the world around me is moving. And I also forget the important pillars of a happy, sufficient life. Oh, that’s truly damaging.

Thinking it over, the precepts are the anchor point of the Buddhist monastic — keeping them clear of the root of decay from the start. The practice of 108 prostrations every morning at a fixed hour helps Jungto practitioners sustain discipline, reminding them of a path of practice that is boundless and without end. Nguyễn Duy Cần’s habit of sitting down at his desk to study at exactly 8 p.m. every day, never off by a minute, is another example of an anchor. And the young man Nguyễn Tất Thành, whatever else he was doing, had to learn a few new words of vocabulary every day. Those are the anchor points that keep people from falling into laxity, into indulging themselves — the posture that readies a decent person for a brakeless slide downhill.

I can also see the difference between having an anchor, a practice of holding oneself, and doing nothing at all — right inside myself. So what do I need to do? Whatever else happens, at 11 p.m. the machine goes off and I go to sleep. Start reading and watching things that nourish me, that are actually good. No matter what. This is for the long run, not a passing thing.

I think the anchor I need to keep is going to bed early. Let me test it for a while and see. Sleep early → wake early → do the morning practice → start the day effectively → a meaningful day → then rest, and prepare for another day.

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