You are not your thoughts
I’m reading The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer.
Chapter 3 is titled “who are you?”
In the chapter, Singer writes:
“It’s actually pretty easy to see that you’re not the objects you look at. It’s a classic case of subject-object. So we don’t have to go through every object in the universe and say that object is not you. We can very easily generalize by saying that if you are the one who is looking at something, then that something is not you. So right away, in one fell swoop, you know what you are not: you’re not the outside world. You’re the one who is inside looking out at that world.”
Building upon this idea, Singer continues:
“Again, you have a subject-object relationship with your thoughts. You are the subject, and thoughts are just another object you can be aware of. You are not your thoughts. You are simply aware of your thoughts.”
I’ve heard a Zen monk make a similar point during a Dharma talk.
We were all sitting on our cushions, facing the monk.
Behind us, you could hear cars accelerating and honking as they were driving by on the city street in front of the temple.
The monk encouraged us to be aware of the traffic noises. To be open to hearing the sounds as part of our meditation, rather than judging them as a disturbance.
The cars came, made noises on the way by, and went further on down the road. Then silence returned.
The monk said that our thoughts are like passing cars.
You can let them drive in one ear and out the other.
“You are not your thoughts.”
“You are simply aware of your thoughts.”
It is difficult for me to stay rooted in the awareness when my thoughts are emotional, especially when the thought brings up fear or anger.
If I am worrying, I think of all the worst-case scenarios.
If I am fighting with my partner, I think of rebuttals and ways to win the argument.
Thoughts are just thoughts.
You can take a step back from them, listen to them like words that someone else is saying, see them like letters written on a page of a book.
Imagine you are sitting on the bank by a river that is rushing by after it has rained.
You see an empty boat on the water, rocking and lurching with the waves, being carried away down the river.
It is much more peaceful to sit on the bank than to be in the boat.