The Problem of Desire

The principal themes for our retreat now [are] desire and soulmaking. As we've already said, these themes, and also the theme of the connection, the relationship between desire and soulmaking, these are themes that, by their very nature, are inexhaustible, endlessly profound. A lifetime of exploring these themes will not exhaust them. But let's at least try to find a way in and to introduce, say a little something by way of introduction to these themes.

If you're the kind of person that's put yourself in the position to listen to this kind of talk, it's probably obvious to you, you'll probably agree looking at our wider culture, the wider Western culture -- or actually the wider globalized, now globalized culture in the world -- you'd probably agree, I'm guessing, that looking at that culture with regards to desire, that the culture could profit from some more investigation, some more discernment, some more wisdom regarding desire. And so that's a theme that you've probably heard many times in Dharma talks and other spiritual teachings, etc., I'm sure.

In a way, actually, we can look at the history of our culture and see that, with regard to desire, there actually have been quite some liberations over several hundred years, etc., but also some more entanglement and more complication and imprisonment with regard to desire. Part of it's due to things like the kind of economic thinking that underpins our societies and politics that absolutely insists on a growth economy. So it therefore insists on propelling and injecting, pumping life into consumerism. Part of it's dependent on that. Part of it's also our modern sense of self, our modernist sense of self is, if you like, based on the exercise of choice, and the propping up and the inflation of certain kinds of identities that come through the exercise of choice and consumerism, etc. These are complicated factors, interesting. There are reasons that give us a whole extra dimension of problem with desire related to all this economy, globalization, and the modern sense of self.

What I want to right now go into is the kinds of problems that we might have and confusions that we might have as Buddhist practitioners, or people who are interested in Buddhism, or similar kinds of spiritual teachings. In a way (and again, I'm sure you'd agree with this), we have a set of teachings and practices that actually help us a lot in regard to desire and a lot of the entanglements with desire, in desire, but at the same time, we can also be prey to a kind of cognitive dissonance with regard to desire. And this is understandable, I think, and it's difficult. It's not easy. So it's not something to judge -- just to become aware of. And this is a little bit what I want to go into as a way of opening our topic up and setting a stage. Sometimes, as whatever you want to call it, Buddhist practitioners, spiritual practitioners, we can kind of be prey to an oversimplification in our thinking of and conceiving of and relating to desire -- either that, and/or we are subject to contradictory messages, messages that are, and teachings, in a way, that are mutually contradictory, that contradict each other -- so that we end up confused with regards to desire, to clinging, to craving, attachment, and also with regards to where we're moving in the whole path: what awakening or enlightenment is, whatever word you want to use, what that does to or with desire, clinging, craving, attachment. So there can be quite some confusion. Sometimes we're not even that conscious that we are confused and that we are harbouring a cognitive dissonance, prey to different and conflicting messages.

Sometimes, for example, as I said, we oversimplify, and so we just say, "Desire is a problem because it brings suffering." Desire leads to suffering, and awakening/enlightenment is imagined or conceived of as some state that there's the absence of desire; one has no desires. And so, "Desire leads to suffering. It's a problem. At awakening, there won't be any desires, or that's the kind of ideal of awakening." Very, very simplistic. What comes out of such a teaching, or rather, interpretation of the teaching? What comes out of such a view? How does it translate into our life? Is it even coherent? Does it make sense? Does it work? It can be very, very oversimplified like that in some instances, or a little bit more sophisticated, and taking up the teachings, the differentiation that the Buddha made originally between, for instance, wholesome desires. He sometimes made this distinction between wholesome desires (kusala) or skilful desires on the one hand. So for example, the desire for awakening is a skilful, wholesome desire, and the desire to cultivate, develop, possess path factors, factors that move us along the path (samādhi, mindfulness, compassion), factors of enlightenment that move us towards the end of suffering, or the decrease of suffering, or the end of craving and desire. Desire for path factors is regarded as wholesome. These are wholesome desires.

Unwholesome desires, akusala, unskilful, would be desires for sense pleasure, or desires to avoid unpleasant senses, unpleasant sense contact; desires, the desire to kind of shore up or solidify or boost the sense of self or the ego. These are akusala, regarded as akusala. So that in that kind of distinction making, delineation, delineations, then the desire, for example, for jhāna, to open to and explore deep states of meditative absorption, etc., is regarded as a wholesome desire. The desire for the pleasant taste or the comfort that we might get from chocolate chip cookies or whatever, this is regarded as an unwholesome desire.

So there's a certain sophistication in that, and a certain clarity in that. Nowadays, many of us (and again, very understandable; this is not an easy area), we have become quite confused with all this, often. Not always, not everyone, not in every respect, but there can be some confusion. So oftentimes we think, "I should let go of my desire for jhāna. That would be a kindness to myself, to let go of my" -- we call it 'grasping at' or 'striving' or whatever. "That would be a kindness." If I say to myself, on the other hand, "I won't have that chocolate chip cookie," then sometimes this is regarded as an unkindness. So we've got it exactly back to front from what the Buddha might have said 2,500 years ago.

Or again, we have a hard time with the self's movement in time towards what it wants. Or we might use words like 'aspiration,' but we quickly have a contradictory teaching that talks about 'becoming,' and 'becoming' is not something to be attached to. Becoming is an ego-movement. So this movement of the self in time is regarded as a movement of ego. Problem: these things don't add up coherently. And then even more so in the whole realm of romantic and sexual desires, longings, relationships, etc. You know, it should be, I think, obvious to anyone over the age of 14 that sexuality and romance, sexual and romantic relationships, do not bring the end of suffering. [laughs] They don't usually even decrease suffering. But still, we have in our sort of mishmash of teachings somehow, we recognize well, somehow that's important to me, for most people -- sexual relationships, romantic relationships, that desire -- so it's kind of okay somehow. We say, "It's okay, but don't be attached." Does it even make sense? Does it work? "Okay, have that, because for some reason I'm not quite sure about, it seems to be important to us, but don't get attached, whatever that means." What does that look like?

Or again, in relation to the world, and the senses, and sense experience, and beauty, etc., we might say, "Oh, enjoy it. It's okay to enjoy it. Just don't get attached." What does it mean? "Let it come, let it go." Is it that kind of almost a little bit oversimplistic teaching? "Let everything come and let it go. Be in the moment. Be with what is. Open to the flow." What does that look like, to try and live life that way? Is it really a complete enough teaching? Is it really an accurate teaching for what moves us and what we are moved by and how we live? Is it an honest teaching? If I am telling you how to live that way, am I really living that way in regard to all this? Who lives that way? How can I have integrity in relation to such teachings? Are these teachings even enabling me to live with integrity with respect to them? Because they don't form an integral, coherent unit. There's something maybe too simplistic in our interpretation, our understanding, our approach. There's not enough sophistication in the psychology. It's not adequate to our needs. Because what gets served by this either oversimplification or contradictory teaching? What gets served, and what does not get served? And is there a way to serve what we most want and need to be served? Somehow, in our understanding in relation to all this, is there a way to approach all this in a way that really makes sense in the deepest, fullest way to our whole being, that's a coherent understanding, opening, opening us?

From a certain perspective, or if we take that kind of understanding -- "awakening, enlightenment is the end of suffering" -- and we reduce it to really emphasize "awakening is the end of suffering," and reduce it in a kind of thin and brittle way, a reductionist way, then actually, from a certain point of view, you could say even the desire for awakening then is really, essentially, in the desire for the end of suffering, if that's really what's moving us, then the desire for awakening is really a kind of desire for a radical decrease of unpleasantness. The desire for awakening, from that limited point of view or limited conception, the desire for awakening is really, essentially, just a desire for a radical decrease in our unpleasantness, in our unpleasant sensations.

You can look at this a few ways. If you say, "Well, suffering is the second arrow," if you know that teaching of the Buddha's, "it's just the second arrow," there's still a kind of unpleasantness. It's the unpleasantness of the second arrow. So by removing that second arrow at full awakening, in a certain system of what 'awakening' means, then I've drastically reduced unpleasantness. Or if my vision of awakening is not to be reborn, that means really the end of both pleasant and unpleasant sensation, the end of vedanā, the end of perception, the end of experience. Is that how we're going to conceive of what is moving us if we desire awakening? That we're desiring this radical decrease in the unpleasantness? Because conceiving it that way, "This is what's moving me. This is the desire there," that's different. It's not conceiving it as, "A desire for awakening is the desire to know and to open to true nature -- the true nature of oneself, the true nature of all things." It's not then being conceived as a desire for truth, a desire to open to and know the Buddha-nature, to live the Buddha-nature and know that one lives the Buddha-nature -- to know, to open to the divine or God, if you're okay with that language. And some people say, "No, that kind of desire is just a desire for consolation. All this talk about Buddha-nature and God and divinity is just consolation. That's what you're after." Really? Is it? Really, let's look into the psychology, our psychology and what moves us here.

And if the desire for awakening is conceived too narrowly, this desire really, essentially, for a reduction or an end of unpleasantness, then it's not being conceived as a desire for beauty, to open to, to know, to live in beauty. It's not a desire for mystery. So what about the desires of a mystic? Is that what a mystic wants -- just the decrease of unpleasantness? And is our desire, deep desire for beauty or desire for deep beauty, is that just a desire for pleasant sensations? What of our love of the world? What of our sensuality? What of our love and desire for that which is beyond the world, beyond the senses, beyond experience -- the transcendent, the Unfabricated? What about that desire? Is that really just about eradicating or drastically reducing unpleasantness? What about our desire for art, to make art, to participate in art, to receive art? What about our desire for scientific knowledge and discovery? Is all that, are all those kind of desires, are they really just delusion?

One could look at it that way, and I think some people do sometimes. Is science, for example, only non-delusional, not a waste of time, when it's for the purpose of reducing suffering, for example in medical research, or in the development of technology that makes our life safer or more comfortable or whatever? Is romantic desire, sexual desire, is that delusion only? Is it only delusion? Certainly delusion can come into all of these movements of desire. But is it only delusion? Is it only the seeking of pleasant sensations? Is it only an expression of love, meaning care, meaning mettā, really? Or a kind of search for security of the self, or a pumping up of the ego in some way -- being reassured that one is attractive or desirable or loveable or whatever it is? Or some kind of combination of all those things? Does that sum up the movement of desire, in romantic desire and sexual desire? Or is there something else, too, there, beyond all of those, more than, alongside even? Something that's vital to our being and to our sense of existence? Something vital to our psyche?

I don't think we have really a Dharma language yet or a Dharma psychology that has words for the kind of desire that is not a desire for an increase in pleasantness or a decrease in unpleasantness, or a decrease in suffering, a kind of desire that's not just to solidify the self somehow. We don't have a word for that kind of desire that actually is for the sake of and leading to and supporting and involving soulmaking and soul. We don't have a psychology that really has a word for that. We want to use the word 'eros.' It's a word that's familiar. Different people define it a different way, have different kinds of associations with it. I'll come back to it in a few minutes. I want to define it in a very particular way: eros as a movement of desire, a kind of desire that involves, supports, opens, stimulates and is for the sake of soulmaking.

Just as in the realm of the imagination, or rather, with regard to the imagination, we made distinctions. So we can talk about what's imaginary and a sort of papañca -- getting lost in fictions that are just entangling me and not serving and just kind of delusory -- imaginary versus what we could call a kind of skilful use of the imagination, helpful use of the imagination that is creative. For instance, I'm planning to build a retreat centre, or I'm planning just my shopping list, or I'm planning a lecture that I have to give, or whatever it is. One uses the imagination in a creative, helpful way. So whatever word we would give to that. So there's imaginary, papañca, and all that; there's this creative planning imagination, whatever; and there's a third category, which we've been calling 'imaginal.' It doesn't equate to those other two. It's something else. We need this other word to draw attention to something.

Similarly with respect to desire. I would like right now to say desire includes three kinds, at least three kinds, or at least draw attention to three kinds right now: craving, clinging, and eros. Three kinds. Now, I'm using those words differently. We will be using those words differently than you've heard before, probably, most of you. I'll explain what I mean. We'll explain what we mean as we go through. And these are our definitions. It's not a matter of us claiming, "This is the right definition. Everyone else should adopt our definition," or anything like that, or "This is the historical definition." I don't care about any of that. I just want to make a delineation between three kinds of desire: craving, clinging, eros. And part of what comes out of making that delineation is that we need to recognize that these desires, each of them, these three kinds of desires, they each, if you like, unfold differently. They each bring us to a different place. They lead in different directions. They have different effects.

So our jobs are partly to discern between these three. Can we recognize what's craving and what's eros? Can we navigate between sometimes, if it's possible? Can we transform one into the other? Can we recognize, are we clear what unfolds from each, and how, and use them appropriately when we need to, use that understanding as and when in different ways?

So yes, absolutely, part of our path is developing our skill, if you like, our capacity to let go of craving, by which I mean the kind of contraction of the being around something or other that does not ease suffering. It contracts the being. It does not lead to soulmaking. It's a movement that's actually really intent on either seeking pleasure, or decreasing unpleasantness, or solidifying the self somehow, and actually does not give us much, does not open the being, does not open the sense of existence -- rather the opposite.

Yes, absolutely, a strand of our path is developing our capacity, our ability, our skill to let go, to drop craving when it arises or, as I said, to transform it if it's possible, when it's possible, to something more skilful. For example, those cookies or that chocolate cake or whatever it is, do I need it? What's it going to give me, if it's just pleasure or comfort I'm looking for, or whatever it is? Or that holiday: "Ah, I'm going to go for two weeks wherever it is, and I'm imagining all these pleasant sensations and the release of unpleasant sensations," etc. Can I recognize these movements? Do I have the ability, the know-how, the skill to let go of them? Or when I'm actually, when my desires are actually not so much to seek pleasure, but they're in fact the movements of trying to avoid unpleasantness, running away from something, being driven, for instance, by a fear of something, a fear of facing something within ourselves or some difficult emotion, it might come out in a way that I reach towards that cake or whatever. It's not actually the cake that I'm after. I'm just after something that shields me, numbs me from something else. All that's really important: recognizing it, noticing it, getting skilful at letting go, dropping it, transforming it.

But the Dharma is much, much more than that. It offers much, much more than that. The possibilities of our being, the possibilities of our existence go way beyond just the dropping and the letting go of craving in those kind of ways. The endless sort of, "There it comes up again, then I drop it. There it comes up again, and I drop it," in this repetitive, endless movement through life of just trying to drop craving and live without craving, and then sometimes just giving in to it, and then dropping it again, etc., and reaching some kind of status quo that's sort of okay with that. There's so much more beauty, depth, possibility, wonder, magic, waiting for us beyond that. Important, but so much more is possible.

So the second kind of desire is what I would want to call 'clinging.' And these are not standard usages of these words. I can't think of other words right now. I just want to make something clear. I'm just going to be very brief here, because I've talked a lot about this previously, and written about it, etc., so just very briefly. 'Clinging,' by which I mean any pulling towards us at any level of the being, even if it's just the subtlest movement of mind to pull something towards us, or push it away, or pull ourselves towards something. Any pull or push towards an object or an anticipated object or whatever. And there's a huge range of that push-pull of what we call 'clinging.' So the most gross, literally clinging to someone who we don't want to leave us, for example, at one end, at the most gross end, and at the most subtle end, even just the momentary perceiving of anything, the momentary experience of anything in the attention. Attention works by actually, if you like, grasping around the object that it's attending to, even just for a moment. That's a very subtle form of clinging. And even just the sense or the belief, not even conscious, that the thing that I'm paying attention to has an inherent existence, independent of the way I'm looking at it, independent of the mind's way of looking -- that belief, which is usually not even a conscious belief, that belief is fundamental avijjā in the Dharma tradition. It's fundamental delusion and ignorance, and that constitutes a very subtle form of clinging. This reification, this grasping at as real is, if you like, the most subtle level of what we call 'clinging.'

So there's this huge range of this push-pull. And what one can do in practice is develop different ways of looking, a whole host of ways of looking that one can play with, enter into, move in and out of, and explore their effects on the whole world of perception. And different ways of looking let go of different degrees of clinging, different kinds of clinging, so that one plays, moving up and down this range of how much clinging there is in the consciousness, so to speak, at any time. And one learns from that. Apart from the sheer delight of that play, one learns from that that perception, all perception of self, of object, of world, of space and time, is dependent on clinging. To the degree that there is clinging, these objects appear, and they appear solid and separate, etc. To the degree that I let go of clinging, that whole world of objects, selves, the world and space and time and all the rest of it, fades.

So we understand, we begin to understand through this play in meditation with ways of looking, developing that art, we understand the fabricated nature, we understand the fabricating of perception, and the fading, the dependent fading of all perception. We understand the dependent origination and the dependent fading of all things, and we recognize, we come to understand gradually the radical emptiness of absolutely everything. All things. Not just self, but every object, inner or outer, element or whatever, aspect of experience, the whole world, space, time, awareness, everything: empty, empty, empty. And in that, there's the possibility of opening to the Unfabricated. One develops this art of letting go of clinging, more and more subtle, more and more deep, and there's an opening of the being to the Unfabricated, what is not fabricated. And not that one lives in such a state, but one emerges from that with that understanding of emptiness, of going up and down, exploring dependent origination, and it opens up radically the whole sense of existence. Beautiful, precious possibility to know that in life and live with that knowing.

Living with that knowing, living with that opened up sense of existence, is not to live without clinging. One actually comes to the insight and recognizes, through this whole play with ways of looking and understanding of dependent origination, etc., one recognizes a few things that mean that one would never regard it as a goal to live without clinging. One realizes, first of all, that it's impossible. Clinging is involved, subtle clinging is involved in any perception, any experience whatsoever, so I cannot live without clinging. Even just to pay attention to anything at all is to cling. It is impossible to live without clinging. Would I want to anyway? Do I not, when I love my family, when I have friendships that are important to me, or I'm with a lover, or in a romantic relationship, these kinds of relationships, the way we understand them these days, the way they are beautiful and meaningful to us these days, they actually involve clinging and attachment. We are not trying to live with some kind of monastic ideal like that or hermit ideal like that in society. And it's not that having that attachment is some kind of 'second best' in terms of awakening.

This understanding of emptiness, as I said, opens up the whole sense of existence, and liberates ways of looking. So existence becomes the art of ways of looking, the flexibility of ways of looking, the play of ways of looking. We realize, too, that clinging itself is empty. Through all this thorough, radical, deep investigation of dependent origination, we realize that clinging, too, is empty. And then there is freedom there: freedom to look in different ways, freedom to relate in different ways, including clinging. So we can move in and out of different kinds of clinging. There's freedom there. Not trying to live without clinging, because if I do try and live without clinging -- that's impossible, and what would it mean anyway, and would we want to? But one of the most essential things I want to highlight right now is that if I'm trying to do that, if I'm oversimplistic and I'm trying to do that, I will actually miss eros and soulmaking. There's a good chance that I will miss eros and soulmaking, the soulmaking that goes with eros. We're free, rather, to move and to explore and to see what comes from what. So there's craving, there's clinging, and there's eros. And eros, as I said, has something to do, is intrinsically bound up and intricately bound up with soulmaking and the whole movement and dynamic of soulmaking.

Catherine is going to talk more about soulmaking shortly, but if I just take a little time right now to define what we mean by 'eros.' And I'll say there are two kind of levels of definition. Right now I'll give what we'll call the sort of small definition of eros, for right now, and we'll explain more later how this is bound up with soulmaking, and it's really important to understand how. But as a small definition of eros, what is this word, and how can we begin to understand it? I want to say eros is a desire. It's a wanting. Eros is the wanting of more contact with, more connection with, more intimacy with, more knowing of, more penetration of, more opening to an erotic object or a beloved other or whatever. I'll say that again. And I'm using these words in a really full way, with all the range of their implication. We'll come back to this, and why that's actually intrinsic to the definition, you'll see. But just for right now, what I'm calling the small definition of eros, it's very important: eros is a desire, a wanting for more contact with, more connection with, more intimacy with, more knowing of, more penetration of and more opening to an object, an erotic object, let's call it, or a beloved other or whatever.

Now, you might not recognize your experience of eros in that, and it actually sounds perhaps quite dry as a definition. It's quite humble, if you like, as a definition. But there's tremendous power. I hope by the end of the retreat, at least, you're going to see just how powerful that definition is, how much emerges from it, how much it implies and sets in motion and implicates. So can you remember that small definition for now? Eros is the wanting of more contact, more connection with, more intimacy with, more knowing of, more penetration of, more opening to an erotic object, a beloved other.

So eros, you'll notice in that definition, is certainly not just sexual attraction or sexual energy. It includes that, and you can hear that in those words, but it's more than that. It includes sexual attraction, sexual energy, but it's much, much more than that, if you look at that definition again. Also, we're not equating eros, in our definition of eros, we're not equating it with Freud's usage of eros as the pleasure principle, essentially just the seeking of pleasant sensations by the organism. Yes, pleasure is involved, but it's more than that. Our definition will actually be, will include that, but be broader than that. That's not the principal movement. That not the principal principle, if you like. I think later in his theorizing Freud equated eros with the life instinct, in contradistinction to Thanatos, which is the death instinct. So there's a relationship between our definition of eros and that life force, if you like, but we're not equating them. Notice also that we're not equating eros with love. Some people say eros just means love. That's fine, how other people define it. It's completely fine. I'm not arguing with anyone. I'm just saying we're going to use it in a very particular way.

This is subtle, but really important: neither are we equating it with the way the Neoplatonists characterized eros as a movement or a force for unification, towards unifying, a movement towards oneness. There's, again, a real relationship there between that movement and what we're calling 'eros,' but absolutely not (we'll say more about this), we're not reducing eros to that at all. There was a Scottish psychoanalyst active in the twentieth century called W. R. D. Fairbairn. He belonged to the British object relations school, if you're familiar with that kind of thing. And he defined libido as the wanting contact or wanting connection with an other. So you can hear the similarities there between what he calls libido and what we're calling eros. But there are still really important distinctions between how we're using it and what he described and what he was pointing to. We'll come back to that.

Notice a couple of other things about this definition of eros, or what we mean just for now. One is that it has a huge range. Eros really encompasses a huge range. It certainly includes the most intense sexual desire. Absolutely, it includes that. Voracious desire, fierce desire, sexually or whatever. Absolutely, it includes that. And if in the realm of the imaginal, when the sexual eros is very strong and intense, sometimes it can open up the image, or cast an image, or vivify an imaginal scene or whatever that involves images that wouldn't actually be possible physically, sexually, because the anatomy just doesn't work that way. Something that's beyond what's physically possible, just because the eros and the soul, if you like, is demanding it, needs it for the soulmaking. Or it might involve things, even if they were possible, you'd never actually do. So there's a whole range there from very, very intense, down to really quite subtle movements of eros that are just kind of pregnant there in the subtle attraction, for instance between two people, or with an image, or with something in the world -- the subtle delight or magic or magnetism that can be there in the beauty of certain connections, in that subtle opening and magic that can be there in the contact with an object. And that object can be anything, and that subtlety can be really, really, very subtle.

For example, it could be with, I'm looking at a cherry blossom, the cherry blossom on the tree. And there's that beauty there, and I'm present there just with this -- there's some kind of subtle magic in the perceiving, in my opening to, in the way my gaze and my being (actually, my whole body) penetrates and opens to that vision, in this case. And maybe I just want it to continue. I want to continue in that subtle magic. I want to linger there. The point is there's a huge range. Huge, huge range of eros in terms of intensity and subtlety. And a little bit implied by what I just said, eros can be in regard to anything at all. There can be an erotic connection, an erotic regard, an erotic relationship with anything at all: any experience or any element of experience; an external object, an internal object; an intrapsychic image, a perception in the world, of the world; anything, any object, even an idea, an emotion, even a suffering, a dukkha, a sense of divinity. All of this is possible to have an erotic connection with. Eros can be there with regard and in relationship with anything at all.

We're going to fill out later, as we go on, just what the relationship is between that wanting more contact, connection, intimacy, knowing, penetration, opening, etc., and soulmaking. We're really going to explore that and fill it out. But for now, I just want to point out that eros, what it does in a nutshell is it opens up and stimulates an opening of dimensions and facets of existence, of the beloved, of the erotic object. It opens up dimensions and facets beyond what we already know and experience. That's what eros moves towards. That's what it instigates. That involves, that can involve, most of the time it does involve, the imaginal. So in this opening up of dimensions and facets beyond what we already know and experience, it involves the imaginal. There's also a way it can work by the quieting of the imaginal, and the quieting, the unfabricating of perception. But for this retreat, we're emphasizing mostly the way that eros involves soulmaking and the imaginal.

Now, eros is already in our life. I'm not talking about something that doesn't exist for you, that you have to have this experience that you've never had before. The same with soulmaking, in fact. What we want to do is get familiar with it and draw it out by defining it in a way that will enable us to investigate it, to explore it and see what it does, what it opens up, where it takes us, where it takes the being and the sense of existence, and how it does that, also to understand how it does that. I mean, I've said already, it takes us, it opens up soulmaking. And part of soulmaking is it opens up, it expands and enriches, widens and deepens our senses of sacredness. To me, that's an inevitable and intrinsic part of soulmaking. It's what soulmaking does, and one of, for me, the most important aspects, tasks, if you like, results of soulmaking. Eros, also, in its movement, in the soulmaking movement, will also make possible for us a view of eros itself and desire as sacred. That view becomes possible. It's something we can enter into, play with, entertain.

Why are we bothering making this delineation of eros? Because, as I said, it's part of our life already, just as soulmaking is. Where there is love, where we really love something, where we're devoted to something, where there's meaningfulness to us, there, there is soulmaking for us, and there, there is eros. So we're talking about something that's already in our life that we would do well to understand more. An implication from what I just said: it's there when we love the path. We have, in other words, or we can have, an erotic relationship with the path, an erotic relationship with the sense of where the path is heading, to awakening, enlightenment, whatever word you like. And understanding that as a potentially erotic relationship has all kinds of implications, all kinds of implications that we often don't realize. Far-reaching, profound, radical implications. We'll go into this.

Eros, as I've already intimated, is an intrinsic element of the imaginal, and therefore of imaginal practice. And you're almost certainly not doing this retreat if you're not already involved in imaginal practice and deeply interested in it. So it's part of what we want to understand when we understand imaginal practice and develop that. And as I've already said, eros, just answering this question, "Why?", kind of summarizing why we would be interested in this thing called eros: because it potentially instigates and supports soulmaking. And part of that soulmaking, as I said just a couple of minutes ago, part of what comes out of soulmaking is a widening and a deepening, an enriching, a making more manifold, a multiplication of our senses of sacredness -- beyond, for example, just a sense of the sacred being universal, some kind of universal oneness or whatever. Making more and more manifold, more and more multifaceted and multidimensional our senses of the sacredness, wider, deeper.

And also, lastly, again, I'm answering the question, "Why get interested in eros? Why make the delineation? Why bother?" Because of our relationship with sexuality, and I think a need to bring sexuality more actively into the path so that it forms an integrated part of the path, coherently woven into the threads, the strands that make up our path. It has meaningfulness. It has place. It has a relationship with sacredness, or the possibility of sacredness, in, through sexuality, as a possibility for us. It's not just kind of defilement or delusion, or just that we have nothing to say about it in relation to our path, other than the few ethical considerations (which people tend to interpret very widely anyway). Or we just say, "Well, it's just an expression of love. It's people showing their care," which what they really mean is mettā. And then we acknowledge that "Yeah, there's also some craving for pleasant sensations. It's some kind of mixture like that." There's so much more richness and depth and beauty potentially available for us if we can weave and open up our exploration of sexuality as part of the path.

And included in that, I mean beyond also just the view that says sexuality or sex is a desire for merging, union: "That's what it is. That's what the movement is. As well as some craving and some care, it's actually a mystical or regressive, either way, urge for union somehow." It's much more, much more than that, much richer, much deeper, and our sense of what sexuality can be and the eros involved there.

Lastly, you know, so we're trying to explore eros and make the delineation, trying to understand it. But eros, I think, will always keep some sense of mystery. It will always remain at least partially mysterious -- some sense of something that's not been fully fathomed there, finally understood or captured in some conception or understanding or definition or whatever. Eros will always retain that mysteriousness, that beyondness. Partly that's because of the soulmaking dynamic itself, which we'll explain that later as we go on. There's something in the soulmaking dynamic and in eros itself which keeps making eros bigger than we have understood at present.

But also, I just want to finish with something I think it's important to recognize about what we're trying to do here and, again, what we're trying to serve. In relation to understanding anything, it's important to understand something about understanding. Our understanding of anything, our concept of it or the conceptual framework we approach it with, our understanding of anything is part of what determines, shapes, conditions, fabricates what that thing becomes for us, and part of what unfolds for that thing.

So the very concepts that we use, definitions, delineations, understandings of whatever it is (in this case, eros) are part of what determine, condition, shape, fabricate what that thing (in this case, eros) becomes and what it leads to. If we want, if we're seeking a final, watertight understanding, as if there's some kind of objective understanding we can have of anything, then this insight into understanding presents us with a conundrum, because whatever concept I have (and there will always be some concept), it shapes the thing. Is that just a dead end, a chasing my tail round and round? Or is there an insight there that actually we can use well? I think the latter. Because rather than aiming at some kind of objective assessment or truth about what this thing or that thing is (in this case, eros) rather, we understand something about understanding. And so we use that insight because we recognize, okay, well, we want to just support whatever conception or understanding or conceptual framework will open up more soulmaking. We support the conception, the understanding, the conceptual framework that opens up more soulmaking, that supports more soulmaking. It's that that we're after in our use of concepts, in our use of understanding: soulmaking. Not something called 'truth,' or 'objective truth,' or neat, watertight definitions, or cleverness, or anything like that. Soulmaking. That's what we're after.