We are born with an expansive consciousness that is spacious and unconditioned, allowing for the unfettered expression of the multitude of human possibilities. Early in life that fullness of possibilities meets the dilemma of human existence. Confronted with the unavoidable challenges of daily life, we are compelled to develop an ego-based identity. That cherished identity progressively reduces our vast possibilities to a constricted set of beliefs, perceptual patterns, reactive behaviors, and patterned ways of living.
The psychologist William James compares the effect of human existence on consciousness to a “reducing valve.” Like a mechanical valve that is progressively closed to limit flow, so does the ‘civilization” of the young child close off the full possibilities and flow of an untamed and untrained consciousness. As a result, we adapt to the demands of culture and its definitions of success and achievement, but we are left as individuals operating with only a fraction of our innate capacities.
In Eastern traditions, the second phase of life, following the completion of household responsibilities, is dedicated to spiritual growth. This stage of life offers an opportunity to rediscover and embrace the fullness of life's possibilities—possibilities that were necessarily set aside earlier in life. The focus shifts inward rather than outward, emphasizing "being" over "doing." During this time, the inner self is progressively recognized as the true essence of who we are, transcending the surface identities we temporarily adopted to navigate the demands of adult life.
At first glance, this shift might seem straightforward and easy. While it is undoubtedly welcome, it is far from simple. Human existence is rooted in the mind and body, and early in life we form an identity closely tied to this physical and mental self. This identification becomes the framework through which we navigate the challenges of life. The surface self provides a sense of security, comfort, familiarity, and a repository of learned responses. However, this attachment comes at a significant cost. Caught in cycles of pleasure and distress, we remain unaware of the stable serenity and happiness we lack, as well as the untapped possibilities that lie beyond the boundaries of our personal identity.
How do we transition from our outward-focused self to the vast expanse of our inner self? It begins with a pivotal moment—the proverbial “crack in the egg.” Whether through fate, grace, trauma, suffering, or some other wake-up call, we must first awaken to the realization that life extends far beyond the confines of the small “I.” Recognizing this truth and committing to the devotion and discipline needed to transcend it, is what Joseph Campbell described as the “Hero’s Journey.” This journey is the adventure of a lifetime. As the poet T.S. Eliot so beautifully writes, that adventure is “the last of earth left to discover... that which was the beginning”—our primal consciousness, our inner essence, our true self.
There are many paths to turning inward, but contemplative meditation is a common thread among them. Despite their variety, all forms of meditation share two fundamental goals. The first is to quiet the overactive mind, creating an inner space that fosters a calmer, more balanced, and healthier way of living. The second, more traditional aim of meditation, is to transcend ordinary thought and experience, allowing us to discover the true nature of self and reality. This profound realization of who we truly are is the only genuine and lasting solution to life’s distress and suffering. It is the sole path to enduring happiness, serenity, wisdom, and freedom.
Years ago, I attended a teaching in a meditation hall in Nepal where the teacher spoke of the mind/body in seemingly contradictory terms, describing it at times as “dirty” and at other times as “precious.” That paradox puzzled me. The teacher explained that the distinction lies in awareness. In the first instance, an individual remains unaware of their intrinsic nature, leading to harmful actions toward themselves and others, which contaminate the mind/body. In the second instance, the individual awakens to the extraordinary potential and essence of the mind/body, cultivating a life of compassion and wholesomeness. This, he said, is what makes a human life precious—a state we can aspire to by turning inward to uncover the true nature of self and existence, which, as Plato described, reflects “the true, the good, and the beautiful.”
As the teacher unraveled the apparent contradiction that had puzzled me, it became clear that each of us faces a choice. We can either awaken to create a precious, conscious life or drift through life in a state of unawareness. The key lies in our decision to break free from the confines of our personal identity, to expand our consciousness beyond the limitations of ordinary existence, and to uncover the true essence of ourselves and reality. This is what defines a precious human life.
In modern times, we don’t need to wait until midlife to begin awakening. We are fortunate to have the freedom early in adult life to explore our inner world and gradually shift our focus inward. Today, we have abundant resources at our fingertips—books, visual media, teachers, retreats, and spiritual teachings—all of which support this journey. We can start by bringing more preciousness into our daily lives through acts of kindness, patience, compassion, generosity, and fostering healthy relationships. Adding mindfulness and contemplative practices deepens this transformation.
By doing so, we not only enrich our own lives but also contribute to creating a more compassionate and precious world. I now see that the teacher’s use of paradox was a deliberate tool to challenge us and raise our awareness. His question, though unspoken, was clear: What will you do with this one life you are given? Wf