Do I Exist?

Do I Exist?

That is the big question and the short answer is no, because when I am asleep I do not exist. What keeps me asleep, however, provides clues on becoming real and deep insights on making my journey of waking up a practical one.

In the Fourth Way, we define major mechanical weaknesses by the term, feature, which often corresponds to a particular Body Type (you may recall that we explored this idea of the seven body types in earlier posts). We use the term chief feature to underscore a weakness that is the most prevalent form of mechanicality for an individual. Examples of chief feature include power, vanity, dominance, fear, willfulness, naivete, and nonexistence.

This latter one, nonexistence, is something I have observed and worked on personally. The feature of nonexistence refers to behaviors that, as the term implies, mask existence, even in the ordinary sense. In a comically ironic way, it’s hard to describe my affirmative manifestations of nonexistence, and it is frankly uncomfortable to try to do so. Nonexistence does not like the spotlight, does not like to be first in line, does not like to speak first or at all. Nonexistence is a mechanical feature that expresses itself by living through other people rather than oneself. It follows others not by choice but in sleep.

“An hour reflecting on one’s non-existence is better than a year of religious devotions with the thought that one exists.” − Sufi aphorism

When I experience friction or difficulties, my chief feature of nonexistence often arises as a sort of protection mechanism. This is true for all chief features. It is our go-to spot when times get tough, autopilot mode emerges to cope with the unfamiliar or unpleasant. It is pure mechanics, and it manifests in ways that preclude presence. For me, someone whose machine is nonexistent, means I withdraw into the wallpaper. I disappear; it just happens with no attention.

Because machines with non-existence don’t appear to exist they tend to be the people who are easily forgotten, the folks whose name escapes you. The ones you forgot were at the party, or the ones for whom the waiter forgot to bring their meal. For someone with nonexistence, one can observe fewer ‘I’s than other types, and a willingness to follow rather than lead in most circumstances. When there is a call for volunteers, nonexistence can wait indefinitely.

No feature is better or worse than the next, because all features keep us asleep. Observing and working against a feature is an active and creative way to engage Presence, and self-remembering sheds conscious light on personal weakness. When we truly exist, we transcend our mechanics.

“Existence is light.” −Ibn Arabi

Join the discussion

A Sybil, Domenichino