Pretend Less Hard

Pretend Less Hard. That's what all of spirituality boils down to. Religion. Metaphysics. Psychothearpy. Meditation. Self-development. All of it. In the end, the answer is to pretend less hard. Moderate your pretending!

I've previously offered tastes:

From "Spirituality in 33 Words":

Spirituality is the process of learning to recognize and identify with the immutable subjectivity you are, rather than with the ever-changing persona you've been pretending (merely for kicks, at first) to portray.

From "Soul":

The term “soul” was invented by poseurs to identify the mysterious and unobservable part that’s not posing.

From "What is Tai Chi?":

Tai chi is the practice of embodying the natural flow one normally pretends not to be a part of.

From "Why God Lets Bad Things Happen":

Our problem as a species is that we immerse so deeply in drama (especially the parts that seem deadly serious - the grisliest, saddest, most turbulent storylines) that we forget we're the ones who signed up for this. The solution is to wear it all much more lightly, and to remember that the rollercoasters are merely rides (we waited on line!), not oppressors.

From "Self-Destructiveness":

Self-destructive people may seem irrational, but they're not. They're acting out a drama, just as we all are, but tweeking parameters for more challenging gameplay. They're simply working at a more advanced level, like increasing resistance on a StairMaster. They've rejected the easy win, that's all.

FAQ
Which pretending, exactly, do I need to moderate?

All of it

What's real?

Not much. Only persistent awareness. It is - not coincidentally! - the only thing that's never wavered for your entire life. It's the receptive presence that has perennially peered out from your eyes. Everything else inside and outside changes every millisecond, soon growing unrecognizable. The persistent part is what's real. The rest is pretend. Pretend less hard!

So you're saying my entire life, as Sarah Fleischbaum, mother of four and well-regarded pilates instructor, is a sham?

Yes. But you needn't drop it entirely. Just pretend less hard.

Is it like kids pretending to be cowboys and indians?

Exactly that breezy, yup. If you keep on pretending you're a cowboy or indian after childhood, you'll become some version of that thing. And as you gradually accumulate confirmation and credential, the pose solidifies, perhaps even convincing other people. An adult life is a persistent whimsy.

I get the whimsy. That seems pretty normal. Why do I need to I pretend less hard?

If this whole life thing is going well for you - if you relish your days with zealous gratitude and enjoy the heck out of this ride - no remedial steps are necessary. As you were!

But out of the hundreds of thousands of people I've met, maybe eleven or so were like this. They retain their essential whimsy. I wasn't one of them. Very early on, I sensed a blurry disjoint - something tectonically skewed in either the world or else in my framing - but I couldn't put my finger on it. It nagged at me, spurring me to endure the entire circuit of rigorous practices, daunting sacrifices and rough austerities. Thousands of hours of meditation. Reading all the books and devoting vast tracts of time to pondering and self-inquiry (some of it publicly, here). All of it can be reduced to three words: "Pretend less hard." So there you go. Pay the girl at the counter on your way out.

Isn't this an awfully pat summary of a realm notorious for its inexpressibility?

That's because I'm addressing your actual presence, rather than the Sarah Fleischbaum of it all. Most spiritual writers speak to Sarah, aiming, uncomfortably, to convince her that Sarah’s a delusion ("Hold on, Sarah, don't worry, there's an underlying strata of Pure Awareness, a spooky and distant ghost in your machine for you to 'discover' or 'realize' or 'uncover'!").

That stratum is right here, right now, reading this. Not remote. Not spooky. In fact, you don't even know you're some certain person while you absorb these words until you pause to reload your storyline.