What's Really "Out There"

I spent much of my life looking for something “out there”. After decades of searching, I finally internalized the teaching that it, in fact, is not out there, but in here.

What, then, is out there?

Surfing alone this morning in paradise, the sun rising over the jungle, the waves clean and fun, I noticed myself ruminating. I was thinking about something far, far away, that really has no relevance in the present. Running through all kinds of “what ifs”.

I remembered one of my favorite meditation instructions, “be willing to drop the thought mid-sentence.”

And so I did.

Back to paradise.

A rogue left-hander came in just that moment. Total focus. I was deep. Three strong paddles. My feet automatically found the board underneath. A vertical drop down a ten-foot face. Nailed the bottom turn! Made the first section. “Good job, Andy,” I heard in my head. The board felt nearly vertical traveling back up the face into the top turn. A few more of those combos and I kicked out just before the shore, smiling ear to ear. I paddled out swiftly back to the point.

Sitting on my board waiting for the next set, I reflected on what’d happened. All that’s ultimately “out there” is wanting things to be different than they are, planning for suboptimal outcomes, scanning for threats, suffering. It’s super unpleasant.

What was really out there was a beautiful island, rolling waves, thin white clouds, light blue sky. Pretty damn pleasant.

Walking home through the jungle, I found myself tracing this pattern back through my life...Then, I noticed the misty rays of sunlight streaming through the leaves, warming my face. “Present...pleasant,” I thought.

I’d remembered being sick a lot as a kid. Constantly changing positions to try to alleviate the discomfort, reaching for something out there that would never seem to come, or if it did, bring the relief I sought.

But what about love, beauty? Isn’t that “out there”?

Nope! That’s just anxious attachment!

There’s really nothing good “out there”, even things disguised as pleasure are just short-term distractions that ultimately exacerbate the discomfort lying dormant within.

I realized that spending the last decade turning towards the difficult stuff inside, that it’s not so difficult anymore...it’s actually kind of nice in here. Because underneath all the uncomfortable stuff, was all the good stuff, all along.

I don’t think anything out there is any better, or really any different, than anything in here. It’s just a giant mirage when I look out. I don’t have to keep chasing it anymore.