A Rage for Revenge

14 The Circle

I went to the circle that night.

And every night after that.

We did three things in circle.

First, there was Definitions.

Jason said that we didn't use our language as much as we were used by it. "Your language channels your thinking. The way you use language demonstrates how your mind works. A skilled observer will be able to make such pertinent observations about you that you'll suspect he's reading your mind-and in a way, he is. He's reading the way your mind is expressing itself." Jason then said that the way to break out of the trap was to learn how to communicate beyond language; but unfortunately, because that was impossible for most of us (so far), we'd have to do it the hard way. We'd have to learn how to make our language serve us.

That is, we'd have to start learning how to use our language with precision. "Learn the precise concepts that the words represent. Learn the true definitions of the words, and language will be transformed. So will your communications. And so will your thought processes."

So the first part of the awakening was definitions. We'd spend hours, sometimes whole evenings, discussing what various words really meant, what was behind them, underneath them, inside them. What were we trying to say-and what were we saying instead? Amazingly, most of the discussions were a lot of fun, although one or two, particularly the discussions of want and need and love, were very uncomfortable.

And once, we spent a week just talking about integrity. "Integrity is total," Jason said. "You can't have a hole anywhere in your integrity or you don't have any integrity at all. It doesn't matter how good the rest of the balloon is, the air still goes out the hole."

The second thing we did was Exercises.

There were all kinds of different exercises. Sometimes we sat in a big circle and closed our eyes and Jason would tell us to imagine things; or think about things; or not think about anything at all, just notice how we were reacting to what was happening. That was the point of the exercises-for us to become conscious of our reactions to phenomena. What memories or emotions came floating up to the surface? "Don't try to figure out what it means," Jason would say. "It doesn't mean anything. Just notice that's how you react. That's the memory you came up with. Notice the emotions you have connected to that memory."

And so on.

Sometimes the exercises were done with our eyes open. The exercises were always about the way we experienced ourselves and our lives, or as Jason put it, "Before you can flush out your head, you have to know what kind of shit is floating around in it first. "

Yuck.

But he got the point across.

One of the most frightening of all the exercises was the one about being naked. Jason divided us into groups. One at a time, each group had to stand up before the rest of the Tribe-naked. We were supposed to notice how uncomfortable we were being naked in front of other people.

The first time we did the exercise I thought I'd pass out. Later on, it got easier.

Jason said that clothes were the way we lied about our bodies; we presented ourselves to each other as a package of clothes and hair and makeup, instead of presenting ourselves as beings who lived in bodies. I didn't get the distinction, but I sure got the panic.

"The point is," Jason said, "most of you are afraid of other people's disapproval of your bodies." And after we worked our way through that, Jason told us, "And what's underneath that is your own disapproval of your body. You're angry because you have to live inside that body. You don't want to live inside that body; it's too old or too fat or too short or thin or too ugly or too light or too dark or too something. So you resist living inside your body; you won't let yourself experience your own body. That's why people do drugs and alcohol. That's why you turn into compulsive eaters and compulsive fuckers and compulsive anythings-because you're afraid to come out and simply be with the other members of your own species. You disapprove of your body, and you know that everybody else will too."

That was an angry evening. I didn't know exactly what had triggered it; apparently one of the little boys had been modest in front of one of the girls and Jason had seen. Modesty angered him.

For a couple of weeks after that, Jason had us all go naked. A lot of us got sunburned, but the point was made. After a while all tits and asses and cocks and pussies all looked the same. Different, but the same. Variations on a theme.

Never mind. You had to be there.

The third thing we did was Feedback.

Jason said, "Most of you are unconscious to the effect you have on the people around you. You have no idea what you are doing to everybody else. Or, let me put it another way: you are pissing on each other, you are shitting on each other, you are bludgeoning each other to death with your words! All the lies! All the bullshit! All the language games! All the rationalizations, excuses, justifications, explanations-all the things you do instead of simply telling the truth. The cost of it is your aliveness.

"That's why we do feedback. It's a chance for you to share what's going on inside your experience, and discover the effect you're having on the people around you. Look out at the group and see how they react-that's what you're putting out into the world."

There was so much. The funny part is that most of it was joyous. We almost always left the circle feeling fulfilled and inspired and enthused about the next day's work. Even when Jason yelled at us, it was only until we got the joke. There was always a joke. "Life is a joke we've played on ourselves," Jason would say. "What makes it so tragic is that most of us refuse to get the joke, so we go around letting life be a burden, a chore instead of an interesting challenge."

He didn't talk about the worms very much. That wasn't the point of the circle. The circle was for the people. The Revelations were for the worms.

There was a lot I didn't understand. I kept asking for explanations. People laughed when I did so. Jason said, "No, don't laugh. There's no such thing as a stupid question. The only stupid question is the one that isn't asked. And, Jim, what you need to know is that they're not laughing at you. They're laughing because they remember their own confusion. They're laughing because they're on the other side of the question now.

"What you need to know is that the explanation is irrelevant. True understanding only comes after you have experienced something. I could explain how to ride a bicycle all night, but that wouldn't teach you how to ride a bike. That wouldn't even give you the experience of it. But once you learn how to ride a bike, you don't need the explanation. Do you see that the explanations are irrelevant?"

"Uh . . ." I blushed. I was embarrassed. "Yes." I sat down. Everybody applauded. We applauded everything and everybody. We created our own excitement, Jason said. "Life is not what happens to us; it's what we create it to be. Here, we create our own enthusiasm."

I wished they wouldn't. It seemed so artificial. I didn't want to sit with it. So I stood up and announced, "I'm upset."

The circle cheered. "H'ray! Jim's upset." Jason said, "Thanks for acknowledging it."

I said, "What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing. It's your upset. You handle it."

I said, "Don't you even want to know why?"

"No, not really. But you feel a need to share it, don't you?"

"Yes, I guess I do."

"So, go ahead. We have space for you to share your upset."

"I don't like all this cheering and yelling and hollering. It feels phony."

"I got it. Anything else?"

"No." I sat down. Everybody applauded. I felt foolish. But the upset was gone. Somebody leaned over and clapped me on the back. Other people smiled their love at me.

Jason said, "I want to talk about transformation tonight." Everybody cheered. This was a favorite subject.

He said, "Actually, I need to talk about experience first. Because I'm going to use the word experience a lot and we need to be clear what we're talking about. When I talk about your experience, I'm not talking about your history. I'm not talking about the rules and the beliefs and the stories you carry around. That's all bullshit. That's all over. That's the past. This is today. Now." He snapped his fingers to illustrate the point. "Now, now, now, now, now-and so on. Now is always now. That's where you live." He paused and grinned at us. "Now, now, now, now." Almost instantly, the whole circle was chanting with him, "Now, now, now, now-" until he raised his hands and cut us off laughing. "Right. You got it. That moment of now-that's who you really are. You are the place where the experience of now occurs. You are not the ideas or the judgments that you create. And you are not even the raw experiences. You are the place where it happens, nothing more. You are not your body. You are not your name. Get it! You are not a thing. You are not your attitudes, you are not your judgments, you are not your beliefs. Those are just concepts that you create and that you hold and have. But you are not your concepts. You are simply and only the place in which all of this occurs. You are the place where you create your life.

"We're going to do an exercise now, to give you the opportunity to experience your ability to create yourself as a being. This is a game where everybody wins. There's no way to do it wrong. So don't worry if you're doing it right. You are. The purpose is to experience yourself playing. It is in your play that you create yourself. So let yourself experience whatever comes up for you. It's all right. Everybody stand up. Now, first, we've got to shake you out of your heads. You're all with your thoughts, so we're going to shake you into consciousness. So everybody find a partner. . . ." He waited till we had done so. My partner was Frankenstein. "Now, grab each other's hands-and start jumping. Up and down, up and down, around and around . . .

It was a shock to see Frankenstein's monster smiling and grinning and laughing and jumping up and down. I had to work to keep up with him-I was afraid he was going to rip my arms out of my sockets if I didn't.

Jason kept calling. "Come on, jump! Jump! Jump! Dance with each other! Dance! Shake yourselves loose! Shake yourselves awake." Everybody was laughing now. I couldn't keep up with Frankenstein, so he grabbed me in a big bear hug and held me to him like a child and started bouncing around the circle. Everybody was hooting and pointing. We collapsed in a silly heap on the grass and Frankenstein kissed me and told me he loved me and I felt so happy that I kissed him back and told him I loved him too. And then we got up and did the next part of the exercise.

"All right," Jason said. "You need to start getting in touch with your breathing now. Everybody put your hands on your knees. Lower your head. Close your eyes and just breathe in slowly. Hold it. Breathe out now. Hold it. Breathe in slowly. Let yourself experience your breathing. Just concentrate on your breath. Hold it. Breathe out now. Let yourself be your breath. Hold it."

At first I was annoyed: Then I was frustrated. After a while, I was bored. How long was this going to go on? I started concentrating on my breathing. I stopped listening to Jason's words and just let myself count and breathe, count and breathe, let myself live in my lungs. After a while, the rest of the universe disappeared. I could hear Jason's voice as if from a distance. He was my guide back, if I wanted to come back. I didn't.

"All right now, good. You're doing fine. It's time to stretch. Reach up and touch the sky. Everybody. Come on, Jim, reach up and touch the sky. As far as you can."

After we stretched, he had us sway. He transformed us into trees. We swayed in the wind. We felt the breeze move through our leaves. We stood there, a grove of human pines, turning to face Jason, the sun, as he circled around us. There were small trees, clambering to see his face. There were tall trees, stately and calm. There were male trees and female trees. There were stiff trees and supple trees, brittle trees and quiet trees. We breathed in and out. We swayed. The days passed. The seasons. It was spring and we blossomed. We showed our sex in our flowers.

And then we were birds, gliding above the trees. We sailed on the currents. We watched our leader and sailed with him. We caught the updrafts and rose lazily. We circled and dove. We wheeled and coursed across the blue and white ocean of air.

And then we were water. It was cold and we were snowflakes drifting softly onto the grass. We tumbled gently down, one on top the other. We melted where we fell. We rolled into each other, we became one another.

And finally, we were monkeys, naked and squatting and bouncing and making monkey noises at each other. We huddled together against the night: There was no language except pats and grunts. Words hadn't been invented yet. We were apes again. We were animals, being animals. The puppies were already curling up and falling asleep. Two of the monkeys had begun to quietly copulate. The female was old enough to be thick in the waist. She had pendulous breasts. The male was an adolescent. He mounted her eagerly and enthusiastically. I watched in appreciation.

I was sitting next to a young female with large breasts. I reached over and patted her. She patted me back. We nuzzled. It was nice. I thought about mating with her. It would have been nice. I patted her some more. I started touching her breasts. She laughed and pushed my monkey-hands away. I shrugged and turned and looked at what was happening on the other side of the cluster. The tall monkey, our leader, was making sounds. Oh, he was inventing words. "All right, now, it's time to come back. Let's invent centuries. Let's invent a lot of them. Let's invent this one, the twenty-first one. Let's invent human beings. Let's be human beings for a while."

I looked around. We were a group of naked human beings sitting on the grass. Some of us were too fat or too skinny. Some of us were dirty. Some of us looked unkempt. A boy with pimples on his ass was pumping away at an older woman who had no shame. I felt embarrassed. I invented embarrassment.

I didn't like being human. I wanted to go back to being an ape. I stood up and shared it. Everybody laughed and applauded. Jason grinned proudly. "You see what happened. You went back into your judgments, your attitudes and opinions-and it automatically separated you from the rest of your family. So, what's more real: the experience of the monkey colony or the judgment about this group of human beings?"

"They're both real," I said. "Aren't they?"

"Inside your head, yes," he said. "But one is experience and one is the story you made up about your experience. Which gave you the most satisfaction?"

"The experience."

"Right. Judgments and beliefs do not produce satisfaction. So, I want you to notice, Jim, that what we are here is a colony of monkeys who have invented language and technology and a whole bunch of other stuff, including judgments and beliefs. Now, we have the choice to stay true to our experience or get lost in the machinery of our inventions. What do you want to do?"

"I think I'll be a monkey." I jumped up and down and scratched my side and made grunty noises through my nose to emphasize the point.

Jason laughed and led the applause. I sat down, satisfied. "That's perfect," he said. "That's a perfect example of the point I want to make here. Experience produces transformation. Look at Jim's face. He's not the same person. See the aliveness there? The self that is home is now more available to us." They cheered and applauded and I felt good.

"That's a transformation, Jim-and you can feel it, can't you?" I nodded enthusiastically.

"So, you see: the experience of yourself playing, creating yourself-that's the experience of yourself as cause. You have each of you now experienced yourself as the source of your own experience. That experience of source is that source of transformation. Is there anyone who doesn't get that? Because we need to talk about transformation, and until you are clear about the source of it, we can't go on.

"So, here's the abstract. Experience of self as source produces transformation. That's how you can create your own transformations all day long. When you are the source of the experiences you create, you are the source of your transformation, and you can create any transformations you want.

"Now. Let's talk about creation for a moment. Is there any way to control creation? In one sense, no. You can't start it. You can't stop it. You are always creating-until you stop. And when you stop, you also stop doing everything else too. We have a technical term for someone who has stopped creating. We call him a corpse.

"But what you do have control over is what you create. You can create joy and enthusiasm every bit as easily as you create misery and despair. But most of you are experts in misery and despair and you've made it up that joy and enthusiasm are beyond your reach. Something has to happen outside you before you can have joy and enthusiasm. You say that, so you can be happy being miserable and depressed.

"Listen," Jason said. He was totally alive and on fire now, "You are creating even when you don't know it-and that's unconscious creation, and that's creation that's separated from source. Get to your source and transformation follows naturally. It is a natural condition. It's the natural function of experience, to transform, transform, transform-and that's how you live at the extraordinary level.

"Look, people: I'm talking about the quality of your lives. You can be like the unawakened-the people out there-or you can be like gods. Gods are responsible. Gods are sources. When you forget who you are, you know what happens? You sink. You stop transforming. You go southward!" He pointed down. "Toward anger, grief, and despair, right?"

"Right!" we cheered back.

"And when you're being responsible for what you create, you will transform yourself upward-toward joy. Right?"

"Right!" we screamed joyously.

"That's all there is," Jason said. "Joy and despair. And all the stations in between. You're either headed toward one or the other. You're either creating your life, or destroying it. So which do you want to do?"

"Create it!" we whooped and hollered.

He held up his hands to stop us. "Great," he said. "I got it!" We applauded and yelled and made monkey noises in appreciation.

"Enough!" Jason screamed. He was laughing too. "I got it, I got it!"

We calmed down.

"All right. Now, we're getting to the punch line." "Yay, punch lines!" someone called.

"We need to have a conversation about creation here. We've all just said that we want to create our lives, right? We want to create joyousness? Well, why?"

I raised my hand. "Because it feels better."

Everybody laughed. Jason said, "Yes, it does, Jim, but that's not all of it. You see, joy and despair are not just feelings. If this was all about our feelings, then we'd be nothing more than the victims of our own feelings. We'd do anything just to feel good. And in fact, a lot of people out there-in what we call the 'real world' . . ." Laughter at this. ". . . function in exactly that way. They do whatever they have to just to feel good. They use their feelings to justify a lot of very selfish and shortsighted actions-like drugs for instance.

"Let me give you the bad news. Your feelings are not really feelings. That's just the way you experience them. Your feelings are really the points on your spiritual compass. Do you know that?

"There's a condition-we'll call it absolute truth. We can experience it as human beings. We can't always comprehend it. In fact, we can't ever comprehend it. But we can experience it. Now: what's the word for absolute truth? Anyone?"

"God," said Frankepstein quietly.

"That's right. God is truth. I'll give you a very simple piece of logic. It doesn't matter if there is a God or not, by the way. If there is a God, then God would be absolute truth, wouldn't she? Right. And if there is an absolute truth anywhere in the universe then it would be congruent with God. We would experience it as God, wouldn't we? So when we have an experience of absolute truth, it's also an experience of God, isn't it?"

I found myself nodding in agreement. It all made perfect sense to me.

Jason went on. "And whether God exists or not doesn't matter, because in that moment, in our own experience, we are creating God, aren't we?"

122DAVID GERROLD

I picked my jaw up and kept on listening. This was important. "Such an experience-the experience of God, of absolute truth-would be the most joyous experience possible, wouldn't it?"

Yes, of course.

"So, you see, your feelings, your emotions, are your barometer of your relationship with God, or with the truth. Whatever word you want to use is fine. This isn't a religion. It's a discovery. You choose how you want to experience it. You're the source of your own experience, aren't you?"

Right.

"So, when you are creating joy, you are moving yourself closer to God-closer to the truth. The more joyous you get, the more truth you are creating."

People were cheering now. I wanted to cheer. I started cheering.

"And that," Jason finished with a flourish, "is why we celebrate the Revelation! Truth is the source of joyousness. Joyousness tells us when we are getting close. Despair tells us when we are moving away. Despair is the result of a lie. It is the acknowledgment of the lie. Find the lie. Acknowledge it. Tell the truth about it. It may be confronting. It may be uncomfortable, but remember: the truth is always uncomfortable. Never mind! Tell it anyway-on the other side of the discomfort is the joy. Most of us are so afraid of being uncomfortable that we pile lie on top of lie and we can't understand why we just get more and more uncomfortable.

"Bite the goddamn bullet and tell the truth! The more truth you tell, the more joy you'll experience. The more joy you have, the closer to truth you are. We move to truth and we create ecstasy! That is the Revelation! That is the Revelation!"

We were all standing now, a8 cheering, all hollering, all yelling, all hugging and kissing, tears streaming down our faces. We were all joyous. It was the truth. It was a revelation. I loved Jason. He was sharing the truth and he was God.

God, I loved him.