A common fantasy is of arriving.
THE FANTASY OF ARRIVING
At some point, I’ll arrive. I’ll be stable. I’ll have it all figured out. I’ll have enough money. I’ll have the house and family. I’ll have a good job. I’ll be respected. I’ll be loved. I’ll learn to love myself. I’ll find a state that’s peaceful. I’ll be enlightened. I’ll be in paradise. I’ll have found nirvana. God will love me.
There are many versions of having arrived and yours may be different.
This is the fantasy of the part of us that feels that something isn’t right, wants it to be different, and hopes that will fix a more fundamental sense of something not being right. And it’s perfectly natural and understandable.
And yet, it’s a fantasy.
It’s a fantasy of parts of us that are unexamined and often unhealed and unloved.
It’s a fantasy we seek refuge in so we can find some comfort and a sense of safety, if only in an imagined future.
And if we look a little closer, we may find it’s a fantasy that creates discomfort and fear when we fuel it. When we hold it as true and identify with its viewpoint.
EXPLORING THE FANTASY OF ARRIVING
So what’s the solution?
One is to examine this fantasy.
When I explore this for myself, I find it’s an image of an imagined future. It comes from a part of me scared of discomfort and uncertainty. It’s something I go into in order to find a sense of safety.
It’s out of alignment with reality since I cannot know anything for certain about the future.
And holding onto it is uncomfortable for just that reason: it’s out of alignment with what I already know – that I cannot know. I am not honest with myself, and that’s inherently uncomfortable.
Holding onto it distracts me from noticing that I have already arrived where I am now. Holding onto it may distract me from shifting how I relate to what’s here and now and find more genuine peace with it.
I can also connect with this fantasy and the part of me that wants to hold onto it.
Where do I feel it in the body? What images are connected with it? What (stressful) stories are behind it? How is it to dialog with this part of me?
What does it want to tell me? What would help it relax?
How is it to see that it comes from a wish to protect me? That it comes from love?
How would it be to meet it with kindness and patience?
How is it to give it – here and now – what it really wants? (A sense of safety, love, being understood, etc.)
How is it to notice that its nature is the same as my own? That it happens within and as what I am?
And so on. There are many ways to explore this.
WILL WE EVER ARRIVE?
Will we ever arrive?
The most honest answer is that I don’t know. How is it to find peace with this not knowing? I may as well since it’s here. I don’t know for certain and cannot know for certain.
At the same time, I can say “no” since everything is always in motion. The content of experience is always in motion, and often in unpredictable ways. There is nowhere to arrive.
I can say “no” because the idea of arriving somewhere is an idea. It’s created by the human mind. It’s not inherent in reality.
And I can say “yes” because we already have arrived. We are already here. This is it. For me, any ideas – about the past or future or arriving or not – happen here and now. I cannot find it anywhere else.
DRAFT FRAGMENTS
Will we ever arrive? I don’t know. If I were to put money on something, it would be no. Everything is always in motion so there is nowhere to arrive. And at the same time, we are already here. There is nowhere to arrive because everything is in motion. And there is nowhere to arrive because we are already here. And the most honest answer is that I cannot know, and that’s fine. I don’t need to know.