A movie about Max Manus, one of the resistance men in Norway during WWII. My family has a cabin a few hundred feet from one of his hiding places during the war, and I read his books as a kid, so he was one of my childhood heroes. 

Here is an interview with him and Jan Baalsrud from 1951.

I watched the Terminator last night, and wondered why there are so many sci-fi movies about cold, calculating, apparently unstoppable robotic and/or alien adversaries. What is so fascinating about them?

Of course, it can be exiting - and useful - to get in touch with the clarity and energy of our basic survival instincts. There is a sense of all of us, all humanity, being in the same boat. There is comfort in the simplicity of having a clear enemy and knowing what to do, and entertainment in the openness of not quite knowing how to do it. And it is enjoyable to vicariously experience drama without being part of it ourselves.

Then, if I see these movies as a dream, with all parts mirroring something in me, what in myself do these characters remind me of? 

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There’s a sort of unsettling, alien quality to their computers’ results. When the teams examine the ways that singular value decomposition is slotting movies into categories, sometimes it makes sense to them — as when the computer highlights what appears to be some essence of nerdiness in a bunch of sci-fi movies. But many categorizations are now so obscure that they cannot see the reasoning behind them. Possibly the algorithms are finding connections so deep and subconscious that customers themselves wouldn’t even recognize them. At one point, Chabbert showed me a list of movies that his algorithm had discovered share some ineffable similarity; it includes a historical movie, “Joan of Arc,” a wrestling video, “W.W.E.: SummerSlam 2004,” the comedy “It Had to Be You” and a version of Charles Dickens’ “Bleak House.” For the life of me, I can’t figure out what possible connection they have, but Chabbert assures me that this singular value decomposition scored 4 percent higher than Cinematch — so it must be doing something right. As Volinsky surmised, “They’re able to tease out all of these things that we would never, ever think of ourselves.” The machine may be understanding something about us that we do not understand ourselves.

From an interesting NY Times article on the quest to improve Netflix’ recommendation software. 

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Great music and movie from a few years back.

From Books of Days.

I watched the BBC fictional documentary Voyage to the Planets which reminded me of the bigger picture of space exploration.

It helps us see our planet from the outside, as a whole, as one ecological and social system, as the larger body for each one of us and humanity as a whole. It helps shift our awareness into a global sense of us, realizing that what we do to the larger whole is what we do to ourselves.

Us is no longer a group of humanity, or even the whole of humanity. It is the earth as a whole, with its complex ecological systems, species and individuals. In this sense, space exploration is one of the ways the earth brings itself as a whole, as one living system, into awareness.

Space exploration is also, in a quite literal way, how the universe explores itself. As Carl Sagan once said, we are the local eyes, ears, feelings and thoughts of the universe. And space exploration is one of the ways this universe, through humans, brings more of itself into awareness.

Space exploration is the first step in the Earth, as a living system, reproducing itself. It is the beginning of the birth of new living planets in our solar system, through terraforming of dead ones.

Space exploration is also the beginning of humanity as a multi-planet species, which is of benefit to our long term survival and would help this particular sense and awareness organ of the universe to hang around and evolve a little bit longer.

Although the episodes didn’t explicitly bring in this context, I thought the episodes were very well made. It made a possible future manned mission to several planets in the solar system seem sexy, gritty and real.

So why not do something similar with a sustainable, or thrivable, future? It could be a glimpse into a society where those forming it act from a global and ecological sense of us, in a very practical and real way.

It could be a society where what is easy to do, individually and collectively, is also what benefits the larger ecological and social whole. Shifting taxes away from work, and to what does not support the larger social and ecological whole, is a good start.

It could be a society where buildings and factories clean the air and water that goes through them, and produce food of its waste products. Where energy is produced cleanly and locally. Where communities are organized around humans and basic human needs, not around cars.

This is not an utopia. There are already many examples of each of these, and they could serve as models and be extended upon for such a documentary, serving as a guide for choices we make today, and making such a future a little more real for us.

I watched Into the Wild some weeks ago, and as any good movie, it brought up a good deal for me to look at.

As usual with movies and life in general, it is an invitation to find in myself what I see in the characters in the movie, and especially those my attention is drawn to through sympathy, aversion or ambivalence.

And it an invitation to see what beliefs come up for me in watching the movie, and inquire into them.

My attention was mainly drawn to the idealism of the main character, and there was some ambivalence there. On the one hand, it was heartfelt and beautiful. On the other hand, it was naive, reckless and harmed himself and others.

So the question for me then is how am I idealistic in that way?

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A charming gem of a movie about the everyday dramas we make for ourselves.

An episode of Pompel & Pilt, an anti-pedagogical Norwegian children’s TV series that made a big impression on one or two generations of Norwegian kids. I believe it was meant to get kids familiar with the absurdity of life, and question authority…! Worked for me, at least. Sorry about the lack of English subtitles, but it doesn’t make much more sense even if you understand Norwegian.

Pompel & Pilt are repair men, looking for something to repair, and get into uncomfortable situations with Gorgon The Janitor and some other creatures.

It is inspired by dadaism and absurdist theater.

Stories are really questions about the world, which means they are an invitation for inquiry.

The story of lila, of God playing hide and seek with itself, is just such a story, as Alan Watts so elegantly shows in this talk on Hinduism.

Just as a thought experiment, say that each night I dreamt a full human life, from birth to death, in great detail. And say I could choose the content of these dreams, with no limitations.

What would I do?

Maybe we would start with a few months of dreams that fulfills all our most immediate desires. Then, it may get a little boring, so why not add some drama? And to spice it up, why not forget within the dream that it is a dream? And to really make it juicy, why not take it to an extreme?

I just watched Groundhog Day for the first time (better late than never), and that story too is really a question for ourselves, an invitation to inquiry. If I lived the same day over and over, how would I live that day? How would I, eventually, want to live that day?

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Even better than the books!

From BBC’s Around the World in 80 Gardens. Definitely worth a watch, and a try!

Nothing special here…

Whenever I listen to music, read a book, watch a movie, or similar, I notice the difference between a resistance within and to experience.

When there is a resistance within experience, it usually makes it interesting to me. I am attracted to the experience, and there is some friction there. It feels meaty, substantial, challenging, nurturing.

This is how it is for me with music such as Jaga Jazzist, Meredith Monk, Bulgarian folks songs, and even - for instance - lounge music. Anything that is a little outside of the familiar for me (Meredith Monk), outside of my expectations (Bulgarian folk songs) or shoulds (metal!), or outside of my familiar identity (lounge).

When there is not much resistance within experience, which I experience with Mozart and some writings and movies, there is either not much interest there, or it becomes more of a - sometimes welcomed - relaxation and a vacation.

And when there is resistance to experience, it is quite different. This is when it becomes uncomfortable, and there is a sense of separation and of a separate I disliking an experience.

I was fortunate enough to see the new Milarepa movie tonight, made by Neten Chokling who was one of the actors in The Cup and assisted with Travelers and Magicians.

Since I have been exploring the early part of the chain behind “deluded” actions lately, that was one of the things that came up for me.

Especially, how, when we unravel what is behind motivations, the ones stemming from a sense of an I with an Other, we find first fear, and then love.

In his case, fear of losing his mother (she threatened with committing suicide if he didn’t take revenge on the village), fear of what may become of him (they had lost their family fortune), fear of not getting his girl (he was poor, she more affluent). When I look for myself, I find that these types of fears are often behind ill considered actions, and also reactivity and reactive emotions. (Anger, frustration, despair.)

And going behind that fear, there is love. In his case, love for his mother, his father, his sister, himself. Love for those he included in his circle of us, which probably shrank due to how his family was treated by most others in the village.

And of course, behind the fear and reactivity, we find beliefs. A sense of being a separate self, beliefs in justice, in wanting a good life, and so on.

And mixed in with it all, pure innocence. Pure innocence in believing certain thoughts, just because most people around do it. Pure innocence in acting from fear, because this fear is inevitable when we take ourselves to be an I with an Other. Pure innocence in this fear taking the form of anger, hate, despair and wanting revenge, because that is inevitable when we resist the experience of fear, and also when it gets mixed up in typical beliefs. Pure innocence in the love that is behind it all, because that love is what we are. Pure innocence in filtering that love through a boundary of us and them, because that is inevitable when there is a sense of a separate I. Pure innocence in where that boundary falls, because that comes from culture, family and where we are in terms of maturity.

The story, as any other story, is a mirror for myself. Can I find what I see in Milarepa, his path, and in the people around him, in myself?

Where do I find the confusion? Being caught up in a sense of a separate self, and everything that comes from that? Where do I find the turning point? The situation or situations where I went far enough in acting from confusion, reactivity and beliefs that it stunned me, invited me to see if there is another way.

And in the sequel, which is about his training and awakening process, where do I build up stone towers just to have to dismantle them again, or having them dismantled for me?

The classic Powers of Ten film by Charles and Ray Eames…

I saw the movie King of Kong tonight, a surprisingly fascinating and touching documentary about the two top competitive Donkey Kong (!) players in the world. One, Billy Mitchell, is the “gamer of the century” and is increasingly cast as the villain as the movie progresses. The other, Steve Wiebe, is a thoroughly likable underdog taking on the champion, and unwittingly gets embroiled in an old feud between Billy Mitchel and his nemesis, Mr. Awesome.

Two things struck me as I watched the movie.

Steve Wiebe’s great achievement is how he lives his life, independent of whether he is successful and recognized in sports, music or arcade games (all areas he has a great deal of talent, but never got it quite off the ground apart from in arcade games). And this is probably obvious to anyone watching the movie, although maybe not always to himself.

There must be many movies out there presenting the same story from different perspectives, although the only one I can think of now is Kurosawa’s Rashomon. (If anyone reading this knows of other movies, please tell me about it in a comment.)

Documentaries lend themselves especially well to this as there is usually hundreds of hours of footage which can be edited in many different ways to tell different versions of the same story, each one with a very different message, point and feel to them, and with the audience siding with different people.

In this case, the movie could have been even more interesting if it was made up of two 40 minute or so stories shown back-to-back. The first, told first from the perspective of Mitchell, casting Wiebe as someone associated with his arch enemy Mr. Awesome and out to take him down at any cost. And then from the perspective of Steve Wiebe, as a more tightly edited version of the one out now. Each would independently tell a fascinating story, and together would also remind us of how things look very different from different perspectives.

A good movie does this anyway, weaving perspectives into a larger story, but separating them out adds something extra to it.

Most of the time, even when a story weaves in several perspectives, one perspective dominates or unifies the others, and the other ones are there more for texture. This is of course good and appropriate most of the time.

But once in a while, it would be interesting to see the different perspectives separated out in a more obvious way. It allows for a more thorough exploration of each, how each one seems very real and true when we are absorbed into it, how easily we can shift into another, and how we can find a space holding them all and from here find the limited truth in each.

Great documentary about Kate Bush, emphasizing the soulful, sensual, heartfelt quality of her music. (My favorites: Hounds of Love, This Sensual World, Aerial.)

In continuing to explore thoughts, I keep discovering how thoughts first create a sense of extent and space, and then use this space to map perception and thoughts themselves.

For instance, all perceptions get mapped onto space, which also allows for a sense of I and Other. I, as a separate self, is located here, in the center, somewhere in or around this body and especially this head, and Other is out there, in the periphery, as anything else arising. A sense of extent allows for an easier differentiation, and it also allows for a sense of an I with an Other.

And thoughts in general also get spread out in space. When I notice the play of thoughts and images arising, and how the mind creates connections among them and shift from one set to another, it is very clear how the mind spreads thoughts - mimicking any and all senses - out in space, and then uses it as a canvas for shifting focus around, for exploring relationships, and so on.

At least for now when I explore it, it seems very similar to the gestural interface used in Minority Report. A wide range of images and information are spread out in space, and manipulated in space to make sense of it.

I watched Ugetsu again tonight, which remains one of my favorite movies and always has quite an impact on me. It is not subtle about its message, but somehow it strikes right at the center anyway.

Byron Katie and Willen de Ridder interviewing that lovable curmudgeon UG Krishnamurti.

I wrote a post about movies as analogy for Big Mind, and movies can also be an analogy for the process of disidentification.

Imagine watching a movie over and over. If it is good, it may capture our interest for the first few times. But after a while, it gets less and less interesting. We know it already. There may be slight differences in how we perceive it, maybe some new details we didn’t see before, but overall, it gets less interesting. Eventually, it may still be playing, but our attention doesn’t go there much anymore, and even if it does, it does not get absorbed into it as in the beginning. It is just recognized as the same movie, the same story unfolding, the same drama. The charge goes out of it for us.

And the same is the case for our own stories, the ones we play over and over in our own life. The only difference is that if attention continues being absorbed into it, taking it as real, then that pattern most likely continues. But if we pay attention to what is happening, for instance through mindfulness in daily life, or meditation practice (watching “channel me” for hours!), or inquiry, or even just being with the experiences, then the interest in it fades, just as when we watch the same movie over and over. We recognize it as the same movie, the same story, the same pattern, and it becomes less fascinating over time. Eventually, it still plays, but attention does not go there so much, and when it does, it does not become absorbed into it. It is just recognized as the same story as before. In other words, there is a disidentification from it. My identity is not wrapped up in it so much anymore.

I watched Bourne Ultimatum earlier today, and noticed how it brought up feelings of being hunted and memories and scenarios triggering that experience.

It is a nice illustration of the difference between relative and absolute truths, and between having a story as information and taking it as substantial and real.

As a human being in the world, we can of course be hunted in different ways or not. That is just information.

And when we add beliefs to that, such as I shouldn’t be hunted, or even I am hunted without seeing the truths in its reversals, there is drama. It creates a sense of pressure, of an I here hunted by something Other, of separation, discomfort, something being off, fear, anger, frustration, and much more.

Without those beliefs, it is just useful information. With those beliefs, it is pressure, intensity, and maybe even suffering.

And to go from stories as belief to just information, we can either explore the belief itself, or fully be with the experience and emotions around it. Through investigating the story, the belief falls away and information remains. Through being with the experience, the emotions are revealed as something entirely different. They initially appeared as pressure, tension, fear, discomfort and so on, and now are revealed as something we can’t even put a label on.

This is the difference between taking the story as real and substantial, and as just information. And it also mirrors, in a small way, the difference between the absolute and relative. The relative truth is that this human self is hunted. A truth closer to the absolute is the reversals in that story (we are always also not hunted, in other ways) and the reversals of the story that we shouldn’t be hunted (we should be, because that is what everything has led up to). This intermediate truth, holding and allowing the grain of truth in all of the turnarounds of any story we have about it, gives a sense of release from drama and struggle, even as we are active and engaged in our lives and the world. And the absolute truth, which is not really needed for this release from drama and suffering, is that there is no I and Other there.

How does this feeling of being hunted come about? Whether we are hunted in a conventional sense or not, the sense of being hunted comes from an interaction between beliefs.

As soon as there is a gap between my beliefs about what is and what should be, there is a sense of being hunted.

And what is hunting me is several things.

First, it is the truth in the reversals of the story I take as true. I am hunted by these truths, because somewhere I know there is a grain of truth in each of them, yet I try to put all truth in the initial story and none in these reversals. I try to deny the truths in the reversals, yet they are there, I am reminded about them, and I am hunted by them.

I am also hunted by what is, because according to my stories about it, it should not be. I try to hold it at bay, but am not able to, or if I am able to now I may not be in the future, so its presence or possible presence hunts me. It is or it can be, but should not be, so I am haunted and hunted by it.

In the case of Jason Bourne, if he beliefs that he shouldn’t be hunted, and that he shouldn’t die, he will feel pressure and intensity. And as viewers, if we have the same beliefs, we will feel the same. If he is free from those beliefs, he is also free from the drama around it and the stress and discomfort, and also free to act with more clarity and decisiveness. (Not that he seems to lack the latter!)

A BBC documentary outlining how Islamic culture sparked the European renaissance and modern European culture.

I watched Forbidden Planet last night.

In the movie, a demonic creature is created from the primitive depths of an otherwise sophisticated and well-intentioned scientist. He wants to remain on an alien planet, and this creature kills his original expedition mates when they decide to return back to Earth, and try to kill all of the current rescue expedition when they too want to bring him back to Earth.

There is an obvious reference to Freud’s model as the creature is referred to as id, or the it, that in us which is disowned and so appears as it instead of as I or me. Both in the movie and in the documentary about it, this is referred to as the primitive depths of humans, the raw animal hidden under a thin veneer of civilization.

But is it really the primitive depths? Is it really the ugly primitive sides of us rearing its head, in spite of trying to suppress it with our civilized side?

We can also see it as coming directly from certain beliefs, from just a story taken as true.

There are two ways these demonic creatures can be created from beliefs…

First, it can be the direct outcome of a belief, such as they shouldn’t take me with them. If we have this belief, and the world goes in a different direction, something will happen. And if the context of other beliefs are set up that way, a demonic creature can be the outcome.

Then, it can come from the shadow of a belief and identity. If I believe that I am good and well-intentioned, then anything that doesn’t fit becomes disowned and an it, which can then take over in different ways.

If we take a quite reductionistic view, and see it only from the filter of beliefs, the biology or “nature” of a being is not needed to explain these things. Looking at the beliefs alone is sufficient to explain the outcome, and it is relatively or entierly independent of biology or other physical characteristics. Any creature with the same beliefs would act in very similar ways.

Of course, even if a particular view is a sufficient explanation, it doesn’t mean that all the other aspects - such as biology, evolution, culture, economics - are not important. They flesh out the picture, makes it far richer, and helps us see how beliefs are formed by individual & collective history and interact with biological impulses and characteristics.

Ever since I read Yogananda’s autobiography in my teens, and was completely baffled by his movie analogy, I have had an interest in that particular image.

It seems that movies can be an analogy in many different ways…

• Ground free from form. Awakeness is inherently free from its own content. It is stainless, untouched by it. And in the same way, a movie screen is inherently free from whatever movie is shown on it. An image is replaced by another, and the previous image is not there anymore. A new movie is shown, and there is no trace of the old one.
• Perfect and imperfect. The content of a movie can be/include/show imperfection, suffering, confusion and so on. Yet, it is also perfect light falling on the movie screen, or perfect dots on the TV or computer screen. The light is untouched by the form it creates, as awareness is untouched by it content.
• Awakeness is its own content. Light falls onto a movie screen and makes up an endless variety of forms, and these forms are no other than light itself. In the same way there is awakeness and the content of awakeness, and this content is no other than awakeness itself taking on a temporary form.
• Temporarily lost in the movie. When we watch a movie, we may be temporarily lost in the movie. We forget it is a movie, and get absorbed into the story. In the same way, Big Mind (God) can get lost in its own play, forgetting what is really is. And as we at some point remember that it is a movie we are watching, Big Mind at some point also remembers itself (although maybe not within this particular life).

Watching movies, and taking in stories in any other form, is a stocking up of human experiences. And this stocking up allows us to…

• Recognize and find insight into the patterns and dynamics playing themselves out in these stories, and also in our own life.
• Recognize in ourselves what we see out there, including in these stories. Whatever qualities and dynamics we see play themselves out among and within the characters of the stories, mirror what is right here in this human self.
• Release identification with these qualities and patterns, through seeing that they are universally human. They play themselves out in all of our human lives, and are not unique to this human self. There is also a release of identification through seeing these patterns play themselves out, over and over, in this life and in the stories, as an old movie that continues to play, but where there is less interest through being so familiar with it.

Of course, it helps if we are receptive to this. All of this probably happens to some extent no matter what, even if we - on the surface - use movies and other stories to confirm whatever cherished beliefs we have. But if we are willing to allow the movies to work on us, in these and other ways, this can unfold more freely.

I visited the sci-fi museum in Seattle this weekend, and was reminded of how sci-fi is an especially fertile ground for examples of and analogies to what is explored in psychology and spirituality. There are probably books out there exploring that theme, and if there isn’t, it is waiting to happen.

Some topics and examples that come to mind…

• Who am I? The Tuvix episode of Star Trek Voyager is especially interesting here. Two individuals, Tuvok and Neelix, are combined into one in a transporter accident. So what is happening here? What is individuality? If I am first this human self, and then a different human self, what happened to the first one? Who is here now? If we take ourselves to be content of awareness in general, and this human self in particular, it becomes an almost impossible conundrum. But if we find ourselves as awareness, as this awake void, which is both the seeing and the seen, both the awareness of form and the forms themselves, the questions fall away. The content of awareness is always in flux anyway, so this is no different. First, one particular human self arises in awareness along with everything else, then another human self. And that is how it already is anyway. Whatever arises is always new, different, fresh. And there is no inherent I with an Other in there anywhere.
• Sentience. What is the difference between advanced robots or holograms and humans? Are they alive? Conscious? Sentient? Again, if we take ourselves to be content of awareness, the question is almost impossible to answer to our satisfaction (which is why it is such fertile ground for so many stories). But if we realize we are awareness, we realize that there isn’t really such a difference. There is awake awareness and then phenomena arising within, to and as this awareness, and these phenomena may be a human self or a robot or a hologram or a cloud or whatever else. In any case, there is no inherent separate self in any of it. In that sense, it is all equal. Of course, this doesn’t quite solve the question at a conventional level, because here, there is still a difference between a biological lifeform, robots and holograms. The question helps us find ourselves as awareness and all phenomena as awareness itself, and it also leaves a great deal of room for different views on a conventional level.
• Time travel. It is the nature of our thoughts to move freely between (what appears as) past, future, and present, so why shouldn’t we be able to do so physically as well? But when we look more closely at what is happening, we see that any thought is about the past (thoughts about what appears as the present always lags a little behind perception, and thoughts about the future have only the past as their source.) And we also see that thoughts, along with all other content of awareness, arises here and now, within this timeless present. All there is, is this awake timeless present within which all phenomena arises, always new, fresh and different, including any thoughts about past, future and present. The past and future exists only within a thought. So we see that time travel is already happening, whenever attention goes to the content of a thought. We see that the past and future only appears in the content of thoughts, and these thoughts arise within this timeless present. And seeing this, the desire and any perceived need for time travel falls away, and the whole idea of time travel is seen as only that, an idea. The appearance of possibility of time travel itself can only arise when we believe in thoughts, making past and future appear substantial and real.
• Parallel worlds. If we pay attention, we notice that there are innumerable parallel worlds right here, and as attention goes into one after another, we live in a succession of them. There is what is alive in immediate perception, here and now. And mimicking these sense fields (vision, sound, sensations, taste, smell) our thoughts create a wide range of worlds parallel to perceptions. Sometimes, when attention is wrapped up in thought, we are absorbed into these parallel worlds, while the world of perceptions goes on on its own. Other times, we are aware of both, one besides the other. And sometimes, attention goes to what is alive in immediate perceptions, and a thought is recognized as just a thought.
• False memories. False memories, and various degrees of false identity based on those memories, is a common theme in science fiction, from Star Trek to the Matrix to Blade Runner. When we look here now, we see that any memory and any identity is just a thought arising here and now. That is all it is. Ephemeral, insubstantial, transparent, arising within this awake timeless now. Different thoughts give rise to different memories and identities. It is always changing anyway, whether subtly or dramatically. It is a precarious situation. But in the midst of thoughts and identities changing, something does not change. What is that? We may find that there is an awakeness here that does not change, even as its content changes. And that this content, whatever arises here now, is this awakeness itself. Finding ourselves as this awakeness gives a freedom to allowing content to change, to live its own life, on its own schedule, as it does anyway.
• Appearance of solidity. The holodeck in Star Trek (I have watched mostly ST lately!) is an example of how a very vivid reality can be created by something as insubstantial as photons and force fields. In the same way, we take something as insubstantial and ephemeral as sensations, sights, sounds, tastes/smells, and thoughts, and create a very vivid and apparently substantial reality for ourselves. But as soon as we notice this, and how the gestalts are created by conglomerates of perception and thoughts, it again is revealed as insubstantial and ephemeral. The matrix, in The Matrix, is another example of how the rules change when we see it for what it is, and get intimately familiar with the mechanisms of samsara. There is a freedom from being blindly caught up in the gestalts and the appearances created by the gestalts.
• Center of gravity. Some stories exemplify the difference between having the center of gravity in our human self, or at the soul level or Ground. What we find ourselves as, in immediate awareness and outside of stories, determines how we experience and filter what is. For instance, the Star Trek TOS episode Errand of Mercy shows the difference between finding oneself as this human self (fear, contraction, drama, struggle) and as soul (as alive timeless presence, and absence of or greatly reduced fear, drama, struggle). It is quite caricatured, but still gets the basic difference across.
• Processing. A part of the path is processing of unresolved issues and memories. They surface, and we have a chance of relating to them in another way, allowing them to resolve. In Tarkovsky’s Solaris, an ocean planet brings to life whatever (or whomever) we have an unresolved relationship with, inviting us to resolve it. If we identify with resistance, as many in the movie do, there is drama and despair. But we can also take it as an opportunity to resolve the relationship, as the main character does. In real life, this process includes being with whatever emotions comes up, inquiries into the beliefs around the situation, and also heal and resolve our relationships in daily life.
• Duality. In The Matrix, Neo and Agent Smith are reversals of each other, and in their final encounter, annihilate each other. This is also what happens when we explore beliefs. First, a story seems true and good and its reversals appear false or not-so-good. Then, when they are more thoroughly investigated and wrestled with, we see the truth in the reversal and both as only relative truths, so the whole appearance of a split and duality falls away. And this, as in the Matrix, allows the world to start anew, this time without (or even with) a belief in stories. The experience is of a struggle (sometimes), and then a falling away of duality, although all that really happens is that we see what is already more true for us. We see the stories as just stories, each with their own limited, practical and relative truth, and what is as inherently free from both, although available to be filtered through either or both.
• Big Mind. Many sci-fi movies is an invitation to shift into Big Mind… for instance through the cosmic scope of the stories (cosmos as a stage which includes and goes beyond all polarities), and the sheer intensity of what is happening. For me, Contact is a movie which does this, through its opening into a larger whole far beyond what we are normally familiar with.
• Awakenings. Some sci-fi stories are about awakenings. We take life as it appears to us as real, and do not question it. And then something happens which reveals it differently from the way it appeared to us, and opens up a larger and different world to us. Matrix is one example, the Truman Show another.
• Meditation. The Vulcan meditation is an example of the art of resistance, and this has a tendency to break down as many Star Trek stories show. “Real” meditation is a disidentification with content of awareness, including resistance, so there is an allowing of what is. This allows what is to reveal itself without the filter of (identified with) resistance, including the stream of quiet bliss that seems inherent in awareness and experiencing, and emotions as a sweet fullness. And it allows Ground to more easily notice itself, since it is less clouded up by the dust kicked up by resistance.

Then the ones shared by any stories, sci-fi or not…

• Mirror. Whatever we see in the wider world, including in any story, is a mirror of what is right here, in several ways. The qualities we see in the wider world are qualities we recognize because they are right here, in this human self. What is, as it appears to us, is filtered through our stories about it, so what we see out there (our stories about the world) is a mirror of our own stories. And as Big Mind, what arises is this I without an Other.
• Shadow. A subarea of the wider world as a mirror is the shadow. We take stories as true, so their reversals are in the shadow. And we identify with particular identities (formed by beliefs), and these too have shadows. Whatever arises that trigger aversion and dislike in us tends to point to our shadow, and sci-fi stories are not short on these. Alien is a good example here, where the adversary is a completely dehumanized monster. Watching these movies is a good opportunity to see what happens when our shadow is triggered, how it tends to lead to dehumanization of the shadow object, an opportunity to find in ourselves what we see out there, and when empathy comes up through recognition, also explore how we would have dealt with the situation in the movie from this new space. It may even be that our actions would be quite similar, but our experience of it quite different (empathy rather than fear and reactiveness).

I used to be strongly identified with an identity as (wannabe) cultured etc., which lead me to read a good amount of literature classics, philosophy and art history, watch obscure and sophisticated movies, listen to music such as Arvo Part, Palestrina, Bach, Philip Glass, and so on, and although I genuinely enjoyed it and got a lot out of it, it was also a one-sided life and identification.

During the dark night, this identification, as so many others, wore down, and there is now more of an open space for anything… deep and shallow, artsy and popular… it doesn’t matter much anymore.

And the irony in this shift is that now, finding more fluidity within the wide landscapes of literature, movies and music, I am also more easily able to find the depth in the shallow, and the same dynamics and patterns in all of it. Popular or sophisticated… it is all reflections of the same basic dynamics and patterns of the mind.

There is a depth in the shallow that, although I was aware of it all the time, I held at arm-lengths distance. Now, that it is right here in my life with no distance, I can appreciate it much more.

Conversely, I guess I can say that there is a shallowness in the deep as well, often an identification with a particular identity which sets up boundaries where there really are none, and a self-congratulatory attitude about things that are really not that sophisticated, and sometimes not even that important.

I have gone through different phases in how many and what types of movies I watch, from mainstream action movies in my early teens to international and classics in my early teens to none for a few years to just about anything now (from obscure documentaries, to international, to classics, to sci-fi, to mainstream movies).

And since my late teens, in addition to watching movies for enjoyment and education, I have seen movies as practice… initially mostly as a way to work with projections.

Movies can be an invitation for…

• A shift into witness, into pure seeing… of what happens on the screen, in the surroundings, in this human self.
• A a shift into Big Mind, as the seeing and seen, without being caught up in the content or identified as either the seeing or seen. (And when identifications arise, just notice that as well.)
• A heartfelt seeing and being with what comes up in this human self… any emotions, any reactivity, any stories triggered.
• An empathy with the characters in the movie, whether defined as good or bad or a mix. (A shift into Big Heart.) And also noticing when empathy does not come up so easily. Who and what do I exclude from my empathy? What do I need to let go of to open up for empathy for even them?
• Seeing the movie as a mirror for my human self. Anything happening in the movie, any story lines, any characters, any behaviors, any settings, each reflect something very similar in this human self. Can I find it? Can I feel it, equally much in here as out there? Can I be with it in an heartfelt way?
• Noticing projections. Whom and what trigger an attraction and sympathy in me? Whom and what trigger aversion? Can I find (and feel) what I see out there in myself? What do I need to let go of to see it equally well in here as out there?
  
• Seeing the story, or parts of it, as reflecting an inner story. Where can I find similar dynamics in me and in my life?
  
• Working with shadows. Whom and what trigger aversion in me? Whom is it difficult for me to recognize in myself and have empathy for? What do I need to let go of to see them in myself, and open for genuine empathy?
• Noticing beliefs triggered by the story, characters or setting. What triggers reactivity in me? What is the belief (the should) behind it? And then, later on, take it to inquiry. Is it true? What happens when I hold onto the belief? How would it be without the belief? What are the genuine truths in the turnarounds of initial belief?
• And finally in a more conventional way, notice social and cultural patterns (norms, hidden assumptions) reflected in the movie, and explore how they show up in my own belief system and life and what effects they have.

As I watch, any of these may come up depending on the movie and what it triggers. If sadness comes up, then a heartfelt being with may be the response. If reactivity, then noticing it as a shadow projection and the belief/identity creating it. If unquestioned cultural assumptions are clear in the interactions of the characters, or the apparent intention of the movie maker, then I can notice and explore those. If the action is especially intense, a shift into Big Mind (headlessness) often happens naturally. If a great deal of suffering among the characters, then a shift into empathy and Big Heart (and a noticing of whom my heart may be more closed towards).

There are many stories of obsessiveness, apparent disasters and waking up, mirroring (one version of) the awakening process.

Moby Dick is about one man’s obsessiveness with the white whale (God) which eventually drags him and his ship under (the death of a sense of separate I along with any other belief and identity), leaving only the ocean, the nondual awakening.

The Truman Show is about a man gradually intuiting that his life is a fabrication, the apparent disasters that happens when he attempts to break out (loss of identities and beliefs), and his final breaking out.

The Matrix trilogy is about a man first waking out of the conventional dream, and then through a great deal of struggle finding an awakening that goes beyond and embraces all polarities… Neo and Agent Smith (good and evil, persona and shadow), the machine world and Zion (mind and matter, also in its version of empty luminosity and form), the Matrix and the real world (deluded and awake).