Threshold diary: Desiring to choose your desire

At the edge of the forest, I met an older man sitting on a fallen tree, watching over the fields. With a gesture of his hand, he invited me to join him. I sat down, and we gazed into the distance for a while.

Then he asked, “How’s the journey so far?” “Challenging,” I replied. “Good,” he said, and we sat in silence again.

After more time had passed, he asked, “Have you understood your desire to understand?” “I think so,” I answered. “Understanding gives me a sense of security. It allows me to refine my predictions to be more accurate. The more I understand how something works, the more I feel in control of the situation. Understanding offers some certainty against the fear of uncertainty.” “Interesting,” the older man said, “And why do you fear uncertainty?” I thought for a moment, then replied, “Because there is a chance for bad things to happen, and I would like to avoid that. The better I get at predicting harmful consequences, the better I can become at avoiding them. Of course, there are always things I won’t be able to predict, but those I can predict with some certainty, I’m often able to avoid. Understanding gives me a sense of control over my life.”

The older man reached into his robes and pulled out some dried roots, and offered them to me. “No thanks,” I said. He shrugged and bit off a piece. Chewing slowly, he asked, “How do you recognize the difference between something you can control and something you can’t control? Would you say that distinction depends on your understanding?” “Yes,” I said. The older man carried on, “But would you say that you can control how much you are able to understand about something, or isn’t that mostly depending on circumstances that are not fully in your control, like specific experiences, or access to required information?” I hesitated before I replied, “No, I think that is not in my control. I can choose to seek out those experiences and information that would help me to understand something better.” The older man grinned, “But if it is something you have not understood yet, how do you know what kind of experiences or information you have to look for, or where to find them?” I replied, “Well, I would base it on the understanding I have so far. Either I will increase my understanding by finding what I seek, or I will refine my understanding when reality differs from my expectations.”

The older man asked, “What would you say is your motivation to increase the control over your life? Would you agree that control is about getting the things that you want, and avoiding the things that you don’t want?” I nodded. He continued, “And who decides what you want and what you don’t want? Are you in control of that, or does it depend on the circumstances that you can’t control?” I paused, not sure what to say.

The older man watched the fields quietly before speaking again. “Tell me,” he said, “have you ever wanted something you wished you did not want?” I nodded slowly. “And have you ever struggled to want something you believed you should want?” “Yes,” I admitted. The older man smiled faintly. “Curious, isn’t it? If desire itself is not entirely chosen, what exactly is it that seeks to control it?” “Perhaps,” I said carefully, “control is not about choosing desire, but about choosing whether to follow it.” The older man chuckled softly. “And what decides that? Your desire to follow it or not?” I frowned, and silence settled between us again.

After a while, he broke it gently. “And so the game continues. Desiring not to desire. Controlling the release of control. Looking for the one doing the looking. Becoming what you’ve always been. Is it frustrating or liberating that the solution to the puzzle is that there is no puzzle?”