Christopher: “So, Beatrice, is riding, and – not being the master of her psyche at that moment – mistakes a stranger for her dead friend. I wanted to point to two aspects of the process. Firstly, her mindfulness may not be strong, in the first instant. It is easily overpowered by an unconscious desire to have her friend in her life, again. That being so, she sees what ‘a part of her’ wants to see.

“This ‘parts’ language has, in modern times, been differentiated highly, but it is not entirely new. The ancient Greek plays were a form of subpersonality work; and there are these verses from Talaputa Thera, presumably from the time of the historical Buddha. They are in the Kuddhaka Nikāya (KN 19. 1. verse 1094). He is talking to his own mind, as though it was a separate personality:

“17. I was begged by you, over long years: “Enough of this living in a household.” [Thus] I went forth into the mendicant’s life. What [then] is the reason, mind, that you don’t urge me [to practice?]

“18. Indeed, mind, didn’t you promise me [saying]: “On Giribbaja’s peaks the colourful birds greeting the thunder (the sound of the great god Indra) will bring you joy when meditating in the forest.”

“19. I have given up my dear ones, my family, and my friends, [abandoned] playing and loving, and worldly sensuality – all that I have given up to come at last to this. [But] even now you are not satisfied with me.

“20. You are mine, mind, and possessed by no-one but me; why then complain when the time has come for total effort? Seeing all as transient, I renounce all this, longing for, and desiring [Nibbāna], the Undying.
Translated by Christopher J. Ash

“The fierce determination which he shows in verse 20 indicates that he is not going to be bossed around anymore, by his mind. His courage to stand alone draws on an inspiration deeper than the fickle mind.

“The beauty in this, for me, is where Talaputa says, “You are mine, mind.” At this point he is so much in the present that he exceeds any subpersonality, and the sum of them. He is the one who self-possessed; that is, the whole person. It’s not another sub-personality, but something which is not an object. He had begun the poem with:

“Verse 1. Oh, when will I live alone on mountain slopes, undivided by desire. [Literally: without a second.] When will it come about, my wish to see clearly how everything is transient?

“At this stage of his practice, committed to the Deathless, he reminds me very much of Case 10 of the Wu-Men Kuan:

“A monk said to Ts’ao-shan, “I am Ch’ing-shui, solitary and destitute. Please give me alms.”
Ts’ao-shan said, “Venerable Shui!”
Ch’ing-shui said, “Yes, sir!”
Ts’ao-shan said, “You have already drunk three cups of the finest wine in China, and still you say that you have not moistened your lips.”
From Robert Aitken, The Gateless Barrier: The Wu-Men Kuan.

“Master Ts’ao-shan, no doubt, appreciates Ch’ing-shui’s gumption. He’s willing to stand alone committed to the Undying, the Unborn; though at this point in his journey, he confesses the fallow of the field. He doesn’t seem to see that his question, Ts’ao-shan’s call, and his clear and strong response are all the finest wine. Nevertheless, he gives himself to the exchange whole-heartedly, just as Talaputa does in his verse 20. The dedication certainly is the whole deal. This way the season of fallow is fulfilled.

“Beatrice’s practice is mature, if she stays for the delusion-making psyche, willing to be immeasurably more than it.”

Kent: “It takes a lot of courage and strength to be alone in mind.”