The Donkey and the Rider: Why You Cannot Find a Let Go Meditation

We often find ourselves caught in a strange comedy, like someone frantically searching for the donkey they are already riding. We look for peace, for clarity, or for some grand event called liberation, completely overlooking the fact that the one looking is already made of the very thing being sought. This is the great distraction from being. We imagine a separate self that needs to cross a bridge to reach the totality, but how can a wave go anywhere to find the ocean? The wave is the ocean. It doesn't become the ocean through effort; it simply is the ocean appearing as a wave for a moment. When we talk about a let go meditation, we have to be very frank with one another. If we think of meditation as a ladder to climb toward enlightenment, we are simply building more walls. Enlightenment is not a destination. It isn't a place "out there" or a future state of mind. There is no "you" that can do something today to become "enlightened" tomorrow. The absolute is already here. There is no "there" separate from "here." If the infinite is truly infinite, it must include you exactly as you are right now—distracted, tired, or seeking—otherwise, it wouldn't be infinite. It would be "everything minus you," which is a logical impossibility. Now, this doesn't mean that sitting in silence is useless. We can be honest about the fact that meditation may bring comfort now. It can feel like a cool drink of water on a hot day. When the body-mind sits still, the physiology changes. We notice chronic tensions we didn't even know we were carrying. The breath becomes a form of nourishment, and the immune system might even find a bit of relief. But we must not confuse feeling better with "getting closer" to the truth. A relaxed person is no more the absolute than a stressed person. Both are perfect expressions of what is. The silence that underlies the noise is always there, whether the room is quiet or the world is screaming. The struggle many of us feel comes from the idea of progress. We are raised to believe that if we want to play the piano or solve complex equations, we must start with the basics and work our way up. We apply this same horizontal logic to the spirit. We think we need to "purify" the mind or "sradicate" our conditioning to finally deserve the truth. But the absolute is vertical. It is not at the end of a timeline; it is the depth of this very moment. It is like a dreamer who dreams they are sick and searching for a cure. In the dream, the search is vital and exhausting. But when the dreamer wakes up, they realize they weren't the sick person, nor were they the doctor—they were the entire dream. They were never in danger. So, who is it that decides to meditate? We often speak as if there is a separate self sitting in the driver's seat, choosing between silence and noise. But when we look closely, can we find that "chooser"? If there is no separate self, then meditation is simply something that happens, like rain or the beating of a heart.