Lack and the Intention to Be Whole

The first cause within my bubble of limited awareness is my intention to be whole. This intention presupposes that I’m not whole – lacking. Lack dictates that my thoughts and actions have a debt to pay to achieve wholeness.

I must defend lack to support my intention to be whole. Defense of lack limits my awareness to something short of whole. Therefore, I can never achieve wholeness. Instead, I’m forever in pursuit of it.

ANY intention is an acknowledgement and so defense of lack. Perhaps I might investigate lack for the purpose of celebrating it. After all, my defense of lack supports my cause to experience limitation. Because lack supports my intention, exploring it may help me appreciate it.

Fighting against lack is a fool’s errand. Embracing and investigating my lack helps me understand the intention that drives it. This empowers me to better apply compassion, where the Aha Zone expands awareness to possibilities that promote adaptation and evolution.

Exploring Lack

What is the purpose for perception of lack? In a world of limited awareness, everything would appear limited – lacking. This would create motivation in the form of pursuit of fulfillment. For example: Thirst must be quenched, hunger must be satisfied, death must be followed by life, and etc. Psychologically, thoughts and emotions seek resolution.

I live by reactive programs based in lack that I obey without question. There is no allowance for questioning. no need for understanding, only following the program. I obey my intention to create wholeness in a world of lack.

I use these programmed defenses of lack to perceive myself whole:

  • What form I take validates lack. I perceive my form validates the limits I place on what I can be.
  • How I think, feel, and act to validate lack. How my form functions validates the limits I place on what I do.
  • Why I must validate lack. Why I perceive my form and function validates my need to defend lack.
  • Who I am in terms of lack. Who I believe I am as a limited being validates my lack of wholeness.

In the bubble, my existence depends on the attention I pay to my program.

Questioning Lack

The old belief was that one must overcome lack through the use of force and defense. This required a sufficient sense of need to generate sufficient effort to achieve a worthy goal. One must earn their way through life. This makes life a reactive experience based on values I assign.

To change, I might seek to understand the process I used to acquire the old belief. Maybe a start might include appreciation of lack as it has served me. This change may take some redirection of my natural persistence and focus. Sweet – an evolutionary rather than revolutionary change.

Questions might help me break into secrets my needs hide from me. I’ve accepted my defense of my needs as who I am without question. Probably because when I did, I was unaware I could ask questions. In effect, my only question as an infant was (maybe), “how do I feel?”

Further, as an infant, I was unskilled in communicating my ideas. Those I might ask were of that same acceptance and defense – and so unable to assist me in that way. Thus, we continued the pattern of old beliefs about lack without question.

Today, I’m capable of asking questions that challenge my acceptance and defense by acknowledging them. For example, I might consider a goal and ask:

  • What do I need to fill this sense of lack?
  • How can that need be fulfilled?
  • Why does that need fulfillment bring me a sense of wholeness?
  • Who do I believe I am when I feel fulfilled?

Targeted self-inquiry brings insights that can lead to deeper understandings and appreciations of lack. Rather than fighting and avoiding lack, we might instead look at it as the medium for change that it is.

How Want Resolves a Fundamental Paradox

Resolving an Intention Ends It – Paradox!

My fundamental intention is to be whole. That wholeness represents rightness, completeness, fulfillment, and etc. Within that intention is the implication that I am unwhole. Although a paradox, the intention to achieve wholeness motivates me to continue towards its fulfillment.

What happens when I fulfill my fundamental intention to be whole? That would mean I’d achieved wholeness. Achieving wholeness would satisfy my intention, which would end my intention.

Satisfaction would also end my motivation to continue towards wholeness. In other words, achievement of my fundamental intention to be whole would end my life.

It’s a paradoxical conundrum of intention in which satisfaction of need = death.

So, I defend against satisfaction of that intention. I do whatever I can to NOT achieve wholeness. Thus, my ever-present sense of dissatisfaction. This gives me a sense of purpose, which drives me towards and defends me against wholeness in a game of separation.

Although I need the goal of wholeness, I also need to avoid it – to have an experience. Want satisfies this need to be whole while giving me a sense of purpose to be whole. In this way, I avoid satisfaction of the fundamental intention while feeling like I’m achieving it. It’s a paradox!

Satisfying a Fundamental Paradox

No matter what I want, I’ll tend to get more of it. That “it” is want. The more I want, the more want I’ll perceive. I can get all I want without ever depleting want. I can achieve a wholeness of want and so satisfy my need to be whole.

In the separation game that’s brilliant!

What’s next????

Values, Limitation, and Wholeness

In my bubble of limited awareness, my foremost intention in life is to be whole – or at least not less than… This intention sets up a comparison between me and wholeness. To help in comparing me to wholeness, I assign values that I use in making judgments. This value compared to that value.

By assigning values, I can combine value with value to create a value I perceive as the whole value. For example, me + you = whole or me + a new car = whole. It seems like me plus something or somebody adds up to more than my value towards wholeness. However, because I’m in limited awareness, the equations I create always come up short of my expectations of wholeness: me + anything < whole.

From this deficit perspective of believing I’m less than whole, I need what’s outside me to satisfy my intention. Based on my value system, I seek outward and defend whatever I feel will make me whole. That feels more in line with my intention than viewing my life as subject to pure chance or fate.

Why must I add value to me to experience the bliss of wholeness? What if I valued myself as already whole? No addition necessary?

Gratitude.

Is Separation from Wholeness Intentional?

Isn’t wholeness best? Shouldn’t I strive for wholeness? Are we not better together than apart? Don’t I experience the universe as it really is?

From my bubble of limited awareness perspective, yes, I do and no, I don’t. It depends on how I consider the universe – as literal or figurative. What if my literal “universe” of sensual perception is my imagination of concepts that appear as “hard” reality?

Because my imagination figures so prominently in deriving meaning from perception, my “reality” may be at once literal and figurative. Duality!

What is duality?

Perhaps the initial separation from wholeness is a realization of duality. That happens in the digital world when one recognizes two conceptual states: 1 and 0, “is” and “is not.” In this duality, I can contrast one concept to the other. This because, in a binary system in which only two states exist, I can define one state in terms of its complement. 1 = not 0, 0 = not 1.

This fundamental difference between 1 and 0 is the essence of the concept of duality, which I define as the contrast between two concepts. The contrast between something (1) and nothing (0) represents the fundamental concept of limitation. That because, in duality, neither 1 nor 0 is everything; each defines the other.

How do I apply duality?

The essence of physical perception is differentiation, the ability to recognize a difference. I compare some perceptual “thing” against its environment. That requires sufficient contrast for my senses and brain to recognize a difference. To the degree I recognize the difference between a thing and not that thing, me and not me, I have experience.

For example, I hear your words because I can separate and contrast them from the background of other sounds. Then, I make sense of your words by translating vibration into concepts I compare with other concepts. Without duality, there can be no perception because there would be no points of comparison.

Why Duality?

In my world of duality, I’m continually comparing everything I experience between what I believe is “right” and “not right.” I compare my concepts of “me” to “not me.” Every thought is a comparison to other thoughts.

In this limited universe, I can only conceptualize infinity in terms of the finite. I comprehend something (1) and not something (0) because I can contrast them to each other.

All that “is not” complements that which “is.” For example, the rose I perceive on my desk is complemented by all that is not the rose.

This leads me to wonder –
What if separation from wholeness is intentional?

Who is this “I” then?

Because the concept, “I,” can distinguish itself from the concept of totality – oneness – it can experience the universe from a perspective. Considering how tenaciously the concept of “I” holds onto this perspective, one might venture a hypothesis that the concept “I” intends to experience life by setting itself apart from ALL. It’s intentional!

Perhaps that intention will continue until this consciousness that differentiates as “me” from “not me” stops. Perhaps then, a perspective will return to the pool of all perspectives from which it came.

Is there more than duality? What’s beyond the rose?

Intention and the Priority Game

I have so many intentions competing with one another! I could say the same for defenses, thoughts and actions. In my limited awareness world of duality, I always produce two intentions and attend to one. That is, for every intention I’m aware of, its counter balances duality.

Because I an aware of only one thought at a time, I’m usually aware of no more than one of my intentions. Although focused on one thought, there are myriad others contending for my attention. Just like intentions, my thoughts scream out for my attention, “Look at me! Look at me!” “No! Look at me! Look at me!”

Attention is the food of thought and intention. Thoughts or intentions to which I pay attention tend to grow and prosper. That doesn’t mean those I don’t pay attention to die. They just don’t grow as fast – and in some cases die away.

At least that’s how it appears to me. “Focus on your goals!” to achieve them, I’ve been told many times. And yet, sometimes, I find myself in the position of saying something like, “I didn’t intend to hurt your feelings.” In other words, an unconscious hidden intention surfaced and surprised me. Maybe forcing me to acknowledge it with my attention.

The Priority Game

There seems to be two main parts of my being:

  • Physical – the projection
  • Psyche – the projector

The projection is useful because the projector perceives it. I project every thought. Not all of them do I attend to. This because of my limited awareness – that comprehends the tiniest fraction of the myriad of thoughts I project.

To conserve energy and keep my story linear, attention focuses awareness from the myriad of intentions down to one at a time. Prioritizing intentions in this serialization helps me avoid overloading my circuits! It also keeps my story straight, which in turn, gives me a sense of rightness. I at least feel I’m okay when my story is linear. Thus, the value of a “good [serial] memory” that recalls events in their “proper” order. That proper order is the order that matches the singular direction of my linear story.

To that end, I must apply my attention first and foremost to defending my safety and benefit. My initial defense of that attention is my intention to feel safe. This intention to defend becomes the default behind my behaviors. This includes “on guard,” fight, and flight behaviors.

All this to prove to myself that I’m vulnerable to being less than whole – while intending to remain whole. This bias for wholeness in an environment of vulnerability can appear in some strange ways. For example, a person might survive an impossible situation and then feels they are somehow invulnerable to destruction. Maybe they feel they are a divine appointee – like a prophet. Maybe they feel a cause to which they must apply themselves.

Their attention to a life-threatening experience with defensive logic based in a premise of vulnerability tends to connect their biased intention for wholeness with its opposite.

Intention as Initial Defense

What if my intention is my initial defense of one concept over another? A part of the mechanism that turns all-at-once lateral thinking into one-at-a-time linear thinking. Why a defense against what I want – wholeness?

In linear-thinking, I can only define all-at-once wholeness in terms of one-at-a-time un-wholeness. In that way of thinking, there is always this sense that I must seek wholeness – rather than accept that I am wholeness.

To serialize my story, I assign intentions based on how much they confirm my concept of wholeness. This would require that I see myself as whole only in relation to someone or something else – a serialized comparison. In my relationships, therefore, I perceive others that support my limited thinking as whole (good/right). And those that don’t as unwhole (bad/wrong).

I define these intention assignments as accountability. Thus, equating my conscious intentions with subconscious accountability. I expect to get what I intend to get. And because the equation is false in limited awareness, I sometimes don’t get what I consciously intend. “Oops! Sorry! I didn’t intend that you should get hurt…” and etc.

Stewardship Over My Intentions

This takes me to the concept of stewardship – governance. Accountability provides that I have governance over my own physical and psychological being. Important, as these are the two main parts of my being. As the steward with power to govern my thoughts, I have the capacity to learn and change. As I learn how my equations affect my conscious intentions, I can practice governance over them. I can turn intention from initial defense to something else. That “something else” may just be the key to transforming limited to unlimited awareness.