34.真相的代價
（注：在《靈性衝撞》英文原版的新版中，刪掉了老版的這一章。這一章原本在“交響樂”和“偉大的故事”兩章之間，寫了茱莉開悟後的一些事。）
港口是樂於救援的，港口富於同情心。進了港口便有了平安、舒適、融融爐火、晚餐、溫暖的毯子、朋友——對世人最親的一切。然而在狂風中，港口、陸地乃是這條船的最可怕威脅。它必須拒絕一切好客的招待。只要讓陸地一碰，哪怕是輕輕一擦它的龍骨，便會使它全身大震。它用盡全力，鼓足全部風帆離開海岸，在離岸的同時，抗拒那會送它回家鄉的風。它再一次去尋找那風急浪高的海上的一片汪洋；為了避難，偏偏無望地沖向危險；它的唯一朋友便是它最兇惡敵人。
——赫爾曼•梅爾維爾《白鯨》
(傑德)茱莉即將破蛹而出，成為一個和史上最開悟的人開悟程度一樣的開悟者。不會更多，也不會更少。旁觀者或許會以為覺醒有層次之分，因此佛陀在開悟光譜上的頂端，新來的茱莉則在位於底端，才剛開始。但在未分化意識的虛空中，並不存在這樣的光譜。醒了就是醒了。
(茱莉)過去的我已經走了，結束了，死了。我甚至無法理解過去的我。過去的我已經對我沒有意義了。我過去怎會如此遲鈍？如此昏沉？如此愚昧？如此粘滯？如此無知覺？我以前認為自己是一個有靈性的人，實際非但如此，而且恰恰相反！我的所謂的靈性不是與真實相連，而是抗拒真實。好一個悲催的靈性腦殘粉！每隔幾個月，我就會對上一個靈性上的突破失望，然後拼命地抓住下一個。一個接一個的海市蜃樓。他們販賣什麼，我就買什麼。土包子！怪胎！我那時究竟在找個啥？我現在不清楚，因為我當時就不清楚。有什麼會把我彈到超讚的存在層次，在那裡，我的願望會被實現，指引會被找到，我擁有令人羨慕的幸福，我的生命永遠會如鑽石般閃耀。自我的這些可憐的慾望誇張到了極端荒誕的程度。一堆垃圾，但那就是曾今的我，沒錯，一堆垃圾。除此之外還能怎麼描述？我現在無法把它弄明白，因為我過去就弄不明白。一般都是某些含糊但非常美妙的存在狀態，或者某些提升了的意識狀態。這個月是一個將要淨化我的新的奇蹟補品，下個月是一種新的、神奇的靜心技術，最終會給予我希望從靜心中獲得的一切。再下個月，大家都成群結隊地去聆聽某個最新的古魯，他能讓你明白一切。把門漆成紅色、睡覺時朝北、背誦饒舌的禱文、清理你的內臟、調整你的脈輪、讀這個經、戴那個寶石、用這種姿勢打坐、焚這種香、凝視這個聖像、得到那個聖人的賜福、買這本書、參加這個工作坊。不冒險，至少買眾多物件中的一種：開光寶石、療愈水晶、能平靜情緒的油、用於清理的香、提升心境的蠟燭、花環、更多的花環。我的公寓變成了一個倉庫——印度的聖物、靈修風鈴、印度教雕像、佛教畫作、塔羅牌、占星圖表、全光譜燈具、療愈香芬、具圖、靜坐墊、瑜伽墊、安全食品、安全潔具、非合成纖維、無毒地毯、無毒漆。書，成百上千本書，封面漂亮、角度聰明的廢書。還有那些與我有關的、我曾引以為豪的雜誌，現在甚至都不好意思提起。虛浮的時尚一波接一波，虛假的玩意一個接一個，而我就像一個中學女生一樣，在無盡的靈修圈子裡迷戀、沉浮。那就是我從前的生活！如果神現在進來告訴我，我必須回到過去的我，我會試圖弄死祂！要么把祂弄死，要么自殺，但我不要回去做那個了無生氣的傢伙。那時我的床邊還有一個禪鐘呢，娘的！
(傑德)我從未做過一個新時代靈修者。我也從來不是一個靈性追求者。我所需要知道的，大多數都是在我為期兩年的崩塌-燒毀過程中學到的。對我來說既新鮮又神奇——出體，非肉體的存在通過有肉身的人傳達訊息，了不起的東方智慧，全世界所有富於勇氣的人們，力求弄清楚一切。從那之後我遇到過許多新時代靈修人士，也了解了茱莉所描述的常見修行方式。她罵得有些嚴厲了，不過話說回來，這是人之常情嘛——走在一個小的、目的性強的圈子裡——但那時，她就處在嚴厲的處境之中。
(茱莉)天吶，我現在是一個該死的吸血鬼了。從今往後我該如何跟我生活中的那些人打交道啊？我是一隻蝴蝶，他們是毛毛蟲，壓根兒不知道有蝴蝶存在。我該怎麼辦？縮回茱莉的角色？互相說著無意義的客套話？假裝感興趣於人們的...什麼？他們的虛假世界？他們的虛假生命？他們在苦逼舞台上的、一眼就可以識別出來的角色？他們用來加強彼此角色認同的強烈需求？他們的...嘔...媽呀...他們的“看法”？我不認為我可以忍受它，一分鐘都不行。我幾乎不可能再扮演從前的自己，但還能是什麼？我該怎麼辦？告知真相？我不能，很明顯，但為何不？這可能是出去的最輕鬆的路，陳述最樸素的真相，然後讓事情隨緣而動。真相聽起來是什麼樣子的？我覺得我可以把未來所有的談話縮減成幾句話：“我不知道。”“我不在乎。”“我對此沒有任何想法。”“你的話對我沒有意義。”“對我講話沒意義。”“難道你看不出來我壓根兒不在這兒？”但如果我這麼說的話，錯誤已經就產生了。我開始清楚地明白，“孤單”到底意味著什麼。這和我之前猜想的一點都不一樣。如果過去想起這個，我可能會將其浪漫化，但它一點都不浪漫。這不只是簡單地意識到我是孤單的，而是情緒低落地揭開所有告訴我不孤單的人和事的虛假。我開始看見這條路真正的終點。我原以為到了“那裡”我能應付得來，我原以為糟糕的事情只是從“這裡”看才糟糕，但抵達那里之後才發現，所有的地獄都比那裡好。我無法退出，也無法讓自己對之麻木。我知道你在書中都講過了，傑德，但現在我才開始看清它的真實含義。我出去了。我已經不屬於任何事物了，而且永遠無法再屬於任何事物了。
(傑德)這個稀奇的問題就是脫離角色但沒有脫離戲服的人會遇到的，亦即“在活著時死去”。這樣的人已經不在劇中了，不再是產物的一份子，但是他們不能告訴其他人，因為，對於其他人來說，戲劇就是一切；沒有其他，只有舞台，沒有什麼在舞台之外。這一新型角色，沒有角色的角色，不能計算並解釋清楚清明與真清明之間的距離。沒錯，吸血鬼。她是活死人，未死的死人，只有她的同類才能真正理解那意味著什麼。
(茱莉)唯一可行的解決方案就是切斷我跟人們的聯繫，跟他們保持距離。我不知道這要怎麼做。我跟很多人有著很強的連接，深刻的友誼，長期維持的關係。我的家庭連接非常強，特別是與我母親和我的一個妹妹。對此我該怎麼做？他們沒有辦法理解，茱莉(她現在只跟我有些像了)，已經不在了。不可能讓她們相信的，不可能有讓她們明白的解釋，我該怎麼辦？我可以讓她們徹底厭惡我，連母愛的魔力都被破除。我都不敢想像那要付出什麼。或者我可以直接走掉，消失。改名換姓，離開這個國家，讓自己消失。這樣做還真行得通，因為我血緣關係最近的這些人觀念都很傳統，他們一直都覺得我有點神神叨叨。我都可以不用搬離太遠。我可以直接給每個人留個言，說我已經皈依了喜馬拉雅山中的薩拉米上師，發願一生為其效命，沒有電話，沒有電郵，拜拜了您，而且我可以確定我的離開雖然會引起不同程度的悲傷，但並不會讓他們很意外。
然而，讓我意外的是，這整個“恆久出離之事”對我來說並不算太沉重。它更像是一個操作性挑戰，是我早應料到的情緒劇變的原因。現在可能還不算完全正確，但我知道它以後會成為一個挑戰。我有更多的工作要做，小屋子需要更多的清理，更多的光需要引進，但新的現實已經確定了。這全是夢，我已經醒了，而且我永遠無法再次把夢境當成真的了。
我想，剛覺醒的人可以直接、開放的聲明他們的新狀態，可以說“我現在是一個新的存有了，一個你不明白的存有。我了悟了真相。醒了。”有一個問題是，人們不會明白他們不會明白的，不會認識他們不會認識的。還有一個問題，那基本上意味著扮演另一個角色。回到舞台，扮演開悟者的角色不是開悟者真正的角色。不存在真正的角色。
(傑德)那茱莉該怎麼辦？死。這是明顯的答案。丟下肉身。不干了。但為什麼要死呢？何不活著？何不留下？為什麼要干預事物的流動？不出意外的話，她前面會有有趣的十年等著她，去弄清楚成為她這樣的存有意味著什麼。在這個節骨眼上，沒理由把自己丟出窗戶。
那離開呢？她可以在接下來的四五十年裡，坐在印度的某做山上，回答沒用的問題。回答那些渴望繼續舒服地昏睡的人的無意義的問題；偏離目標，而不是朝其前進。人們會錯誤地頌揚她、用無意義的語言讚美她，贈予她無意義的東西。這種小事情的作用，要深思的話真可怕，會對能忍受它的人產生直接的懷疑。但管它的呢，發生的就是該發生的。我自己也從事了一陣子的答疑活動。我沒有選擇它，反而有點像是掉進其中。我之前老是看不見更大的、統一的模式，直到意識到一切都指向寫書，然後一切才變得統一起來。更大的畫面顯現出來，碎片清晰地聚焦起來。宇宙想寫幾本書，而那幾百次對話構成了用於寫書的知識和經驗的基礎。我看見，我的整個人生，都是為了寫成這幾本書而展開的。
(茱莉)當我去書店或市區的時候，我不得不尷尬地做回茱莉。友善、歡快，但已經不是那麼得勁了，我已經不再需要任何投射的反饋了，更冷淡了，不再那麼外向、開朗、熱情、迷人了。只要剛剛夠就好，只要扮善到足以得到我所需要的就離開。我已經超越了看法。我不再感興趣於我自己或任何人的看法。我沒有心力去在乎人們的想法，尤其是自己的。我願意丟掉我的自尊，但我還擁有它。它已經產生適應了。它曾今建立在好幾十種因素上，幾百種，可能更多。現在它只建立在一件事上。只在這個上面，其他的都不重要。在其他人面前扮演“正常人”的唯一理由就是守護這一進程。除了這個進程，其他都不重要。
沒有了禁忌。沒有哪兒是對我關著門的，沒有哪兒是我不去的。沒有什麼是禁止進入的。我什麼也不迴避，沒有什麼是不能接納的，沒有什麼是邪惡的或令人討厭的，沒有什麼是太極端的。評判所有事物的唯一的標準是，是否對我的覺醒進程有價值。這不是說我不害怕，而是因為這關乎拆掉高牆，所有的高牆。如果我的眼睛阻礙了我，我會把它扯出來。如果我的手阻礙了我，我會把它砍掉。沒有代價是我不會付出的。沒有代價太大。
我開始懷疑這一切的到底有什麼意義，這耗時14個月摳出的一條路，到底有他媽的什麼意義？壓根兒就不合理。我猜這就是整件事的基本矛盾：其癲狂般的幽默性。誰受益了？沒人受益。沒有一個茱莉被留下。這重大劇變有什麼意義？一個也沒有。很明顯，無可辯駁的無意義。怎麼可能如此重大的事件、如此徹底的轉化、如此劇烈的核爆，竟如此的無意義？但這就是事實。我猜任何事都比這個有意義。
(傑德)像一個孩子，拍下開關，把整個世界像一盞燈一樣關掉。當這個結束的東西不是世界的某一部分，而是整個世界本身時，你能說什麼呢？都不值得一聳肩。
(茱莉)在最後的幾個月裡，我有幾次被一種劇烈到我以為會無法承受的巨大幸福感包圍。我不知道有哪種幸福感能與之相比，也看不出怎麼可能有。它感覺起來就像快要讓我斃命、而且就算它真的弄死了我我也不在乎。我現在知道了，傑德，你在書中沒有說的部分，也清楚你為什麼沒說。關於這一點，有一個你沒有提及的現實，現在我知道了，我也知道了原因。在這個地方，所有的矛盾都消失了；在這個地方，再也沒有任何問題了。但無法試圖描述這個地方。對於所有看起來無法回答的問題，你給出了一個完美的回答：自己來看。現在我來了，我看到了。它一直都在那。看起來真相的代價是一切，但其實不是。我之前怎麼就不明白呢？真相沒有代價(The price of truth is nothing)。
(原文)
34. The Price of Truth
The port would fain give succor, the port ispitiful; in the port is safety, comfort, hearthstone, supper, warm blankets,friends, all that's kind to our mortalities. But in that gale, the port, theland, is that ship's direst jeopardy; she must fly all hospitality; one touchof land, though it but graze the keel, would make her shudder through andthrough. With all her might she crowds all sail off shore; in so doing, fights 'gainstthe very winds that fain would blow her homeward; seeks all the lashed sea'slandlessness again; for refuge's sake forlornly rushing into peril; her onlyfriend her bitterest foe!
---Herman Melville, Moby-Dick
(JED)Julie will emerge from her chrysalisexactly as enlightened as the most enlightened person that ever was. No more,no less. Onlookers may assume there are levels of awakeness, so that the Buddhais supremely enlightened at the high end and newcomer Julie is at the bottom,just starting out, but in the void of undifferentiated consciousness no suchspectrum exists. Awake is awake.
(JULIE)The person I was is gone, over, dead. Ican't even comprehend that I was what I was. Who I was makes no sense to menow. How I could have been so obtuse? So comatose? So deceived? So thick? Sounaware? I thought I was a spiritual person and I was anything but. I was likethe exact opposite! My so-called spirituality wasn't a connection with realitybut a shield against it. What kind of sad spiritual groupie was I? Every fewmonths it seems I was growing disenchanted with the last great spiritualbreakthrough and grasping desperately at the next. One mirage after the next. Whateverthey were selling, I was buying. What a rube! What a flake! What was I evenlooking for? I don't know now because I didn't know then. Something that wasgoing to catapult me to some fabulous new strata of being where my wishes werefulfilled, my counsel was sought, my happiness was admired and my life wouldsparkle like a diamond forever. Ego's wretched desires protracted to their grotesqueextremes. What a load of crap, but that's what I was, I guess, a load of crap. Howelse to say it? I can't make sense of it now because it didn't make sense then.It was always about some vaguely but vastly more wonderful state of being, orsome elevated state of consciousness or some level of mastery that I couldn'teven begin to guess the nature of. One month it's the new wonder supplementthat's going to purify me. The next month it's the miraculous new meditationtechnique that's finally going to give me whatever it is I've always wantedfrom meditation. A month later everyone's flocking to hear the latest guru whohas managed to make it all make sense. Paint your door red, sleep facing north,recite tongue-twisting mantras, hose out your innards, tune up your chakras,read this scripture, wear that gem, sit in the pose, burn this incense, gaze atthis saint's picture , get that saint's blessing, buy this book, attend thisworkshop. Take no chances, buy at least one of everything: sacred gems, healingcrystals, calming oils, cleansing incense, mood-enhancing candles, malas, moremalas. My apartment became a warehouse for Indian fetishes, wind-chimes, Hindustatues, Buddhist art, tarot decks, astrology charts, full-spectrum lighting,therapeutic aromas, yantra posters, meditation cushions, yoga mats, safe foods,safe cleaning products, non-synthetic fabrics, non-off -gassing carpets,non-toxic paints. Books, hundreds of books. Every stupid book with a prettycover and a clever angle. Magazines I was once so proud to be affiliated withthat I'm now too embarrassed to even think about. Fad after fad , gimmick aftergimmick, and there I was like a schoolgirl falling in and out of an endlesscycle of spiritual infatuations. That was my life! If God walked in right nowand told me I had to go back to being that person I'd try to kill Him. That, orI'd kill myself, but I wouldn't go back to that prison of vapidity. I had a Zenclock next to my bed for chrissakes!
(JED)I was never really a New Ager. I wasnever a spiritual seeker . Most of what I needed to know I learned in my owntwo-year crash- and-burn course. It was all new and fantastic to me; peopletraveling outside their bodies, discorporate entities dispensing knowledgethrough living people, the stunning depth of wisdom of the East, all thecourageous men and women all over the world, striving to make sense of it all. I'vesince met many New Agey type folks and I recognize the perennial search dynamicJulie describes. She's being a bit harsh about what is, after all, a very humantendency---walking in the small, purposeful circles---but then, she's in aharsh place.
(JULIE)Jesus, I'm a fucking vampire now. Howam I going to deal with all the people in my life from now on? I'ma butterfly and they're all caterpillars who don't know there is such a thingas a butterfly. What do I do now? Do I slip back into the role of Julie? Exchangeinane pleasantries? Pretend to take an interest in people's...what? Theirmake-believe worlds? Their make-believe lives? Their well-defined characters ontheir tiny stages? Their desperate need to inflict themselves on each other? Their...ohdear God...their opinions? I don't think I could stand a minute of it. Not oneminute. It would hardly even be possible to impersonate my former self, butwhat else? What do I do? Tell the truth? I can't, obviously, but why not? Maybethat's the easiest way out; just state the plainest possible truth and letthings fall where they may. What would the truth even sound like? I think Icould restrict all future conversation to a few simple remarks: “I don't know.”“I don't care.” “I have no thoughts on that matter.” “Your words have nomeaning to me.” “There's no point in speaking to me.” “Can't you see I'm notreally here?” But if I have to say things like that, the mistake has alreadybeen made. I'm starting to get a very clear understanding of what it means tobe alone. It's not at all what I'd guessed. If I thought about it at all, Imight have romanticized it a bit, but this isn't romantic. This isn't just asimple realization that I am alone, but the low stripping away of everyone andeverything that tells me I am notalone. I'm starting to see where this road really leads. I think I can dealwith being there because I think that what seems terrible about it only seemsthat way from here, but getting there is worse than any hell could ever be. Ican't even resign myself or make myself numb to it. I know this was all in yourbook, Jed, but I'm only starting to see what it really means now. I'mout. I am no longer a part of anything and I'll never be a part of anythingagain.
(JED)This is the curious problem of the personwho has stepped out of their role but not their costume, i,e., died whilealive. Such a person is no longer in the play, no longer a member of theproduction, but they can't tell others that because, for others, the play isall; there is nothing but the stage, nothing beyond. This new type of role, thenon-role, simply does not compute and gets interpreted as a break from sanityrather than true sanity. Julie's dead, but she'll have a heck of a timeexplaining that to anyone. Vampire is right. She's the living dead, the undead,and only another of her kind can really understand what that means.
(JULIE)The only possible solution is to severconnections and distance myself from people. I don't know how to do this. I'vehad strong ties with many people, deep friendships, lasting relationships. Myfamily ties are very strong, especially with my mother and one of my sisters. Whatdo I do about that ? They have no capacity to understand that Julie, as much as Imay resemble her, is gone. There'll be no convincing them, no explanation couldget through to them, so what do I do? I could make myself to utterly repulsiveto them that even the spell of a mother's love would be broken. I can't evenimagine what that would take. Or I could simply go. Vanish. Change my name,leave the country, make myself disappear. This could actually work becausethose closest to me are all actually fairly conventional in their views andhave always considered me a bit loosely wrapped. I wouldn't even have to movefar away. I could simply send out short notes to everyone saying that I'vepledged myself to a life of service at the feet of Swami Salami and will bemoving to his ashram in the remotest Himalaya, no phones, no email, see yalater, and though I'm sure it would evoke varying degrees of sadness, it wouldn'tarouse much surprise.
Surprising to me, however, is that this entirematter of being permanently set apart is not weighing very heavily upon me. Itseems like more of an operational challenge that the cause for emotionalupheaval I would have expected. That may not be perfectly true at the moment,but I can see that it will be. I have more work to do, more cleaning in theattic, more letting in of light, but the new reality is becoming established. It'sall a dream and I am awake, and I can never believe in the dream again.
(JED )The newly awakened person could, Isuppose, make a direct, open declaration of their new status, could say, “I amnow something new, something you can't understand. I am truth-realized. Awake.”One problem is that people don't understand that they don't understand; don'tknow that they don't know. The other problem is that it basically means playinganother role; getting back on stage, acting enlightened person role is not thetrue role of the enlightened person. There is no true role.
So what is Julie to do? Die. That's theobvious answer. Drop the body. Be done with it. But why? Why not live? Why notstay? Why interfere with the flow of things? If nothing else, she has aninteresting decade before her as she learns what it means to be this thing shehas become. No reason to fling oneself out a window at this point.
So what does that leave? She could go sit on amountain in India and answer useless questions for the next forty or fiftyyears. Pointless questions from people eager to stay comfortably numb; turnedAway, not Toward. People who will falsely exalt her, praise her with meaninglesswords, grandly bestow upon her meaningless things. That sort of sideshow functionis so dreadfull to contemplate that it casts immediate doubt on anyone whowould endure it. But what the hell, you go where you go. I myself did a bit ofthe question answering thing for a while. I didn't choose it, I kind of fellinto it. I could never see the larger unifying pattern in which it made senseuntil I realized that it was all about the book. Then it all came together. Thelarger picture revealed itself and the pieces resolved into sharp focus. Theuniverse wanted some books written, and all those hundreds of dialogues formedthe foundation of knowledge and experience upon which I could write them. Myentire life, I saw, was simply the process by which these books brought intobeing.
(JULIE)When I go to the store or the city Ihave to slip awkwardly back into Julie. Friendly, cheerful, but not so muchnow. not needing anything reflected back to me now. more reserved now, not asoutgoing, not overt, not warm, not engaging. Just enough, just nice enough toget what I need and get away. I am beyond opinion. I'm not interested in my ownopinions or anyone else's. I don't have the luxury of caring what people think,least of all myself. I'm willing to lose my self-respect, but I still have it. Ithas adapted. It used to be based on dozens of factors, hundreds, maybe more. Nowit's based one thing only. On this. Nothing else matters. The only reason toact “normal” around other people is to guard this process. Nothing matters butthis process.
There are no more taboos. There is nowherethat is closed to me, nowhere that I won't go. Nothing is off-limits. I shunnothing. Nothing is excluded. Nothing is vile or repugnant, nothing tooextreme. The only criteria by which I judge anything is whether it's of valueto my process of awakening or not. It's not that I'm not scared, just that thisis about tearing down walls, all walls. If my eye offendeth me, I will pluck itout. If my hand offendeth me, I will cut it off. There is no price I won't pay.No price is too high.
I'm starting to wonder what the point of allthis is, this whole process I've spent the last fourteen months clawing my waythrough. What the hell's the point of it? It doesn't make any sense. I guessthis is the essential paradox of the whole thing: the insane humor of it. Whobenefits? No one benefits. There's no Julie left. What's the point of thismassive upheaval? There is none. It's absolutely, undeniably pointless. How cansomething this huge, this transformative, this nuclear, be so pointless? Butthat's what it is. I guess you could say the same about anything.
(JED)Like a child flicking a switch that turnsthe world off like a light. What can you say when the thing that ends isn'twithin a context, but context itself? It hardly merits a shrug.
(JULIE)In the last few months there have beenseveral times when I was overcome by a happiness so intense that I literallyfelt that it might be more than I could bear. I've never known any happinessthat could compare with this and I don't see how any happiness could. It feelslike it could kill me and I wouldn't care if it did. I see now, Jed, what you didn'tsay in your book and I see why you didn't. There's a reality to this that youdidn't go into and now that I know it, I know why. There's the place where allthe paradoxes disappear and where no questions remain, but there's no point intrying to describe this place. You gave the one perfect answer to all theseemingly unanswerable questions: Come see for yourself. I'm here now. I see itnow. It was right there all the time. It looks like the price of truth iseverything, but it's not. How could I not have known? The price of truth isnothing.
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