The practitioner is not detached from the conditions in which his practice began and proceeded. The practitioner is an ordinary man, a typical representative of his biological species, living within society. The difference lies in superficial individual traits and features, with an identical load-bearing structure.
Self-inquiry began as an attempt to emerge from a severe crisis, which almost became the final chapter of the practitioner's life. Having conducted a multi-year practical investigation of his own nature, he learned what he is "made of" and on what foundation his "i" rested.
The "black lake," described in the "Report," is the boundary layer guarding and separating the individual "i" from the universal flow of life.
Standing before the "lake," the practitioner was faced with a decisive choice. He understood that retreating back would change nothing, would not eliminate the cause of the crisis – inevitably he would return to the choice once more. But he would return already under different conditions – exhausted and cornered. And that is the best outcome, for the next such crisis could indeed become the final one.
The practitioner made his decision and continued self-inquiry.
Continuing was extremely terrifying. Fear was everywhere; it was dense like a liquid. Until that moment, the practitioner had never felt fear of such density.
It soon became apparent that immersion in the "black lake" was not fatal: the fear was dreadful, but not poisonous; it menaced, but did not wound. The essence of fear became visible: a living defenselessness, blindly and unconsciously striving to protect itself. The practitioner saw this, and the fear dissolved like morning mist. Nothing threatened life; the practitioner's understanding had moved beyond its former boundaries.
Overcoming the boundary layer became a kind of decisive fork in the road. On one side of this fork lay the previous life, a return to which required no effort. This option was simple and obvious. On the other side of the fork was frightening indeterminacy.
At the moment of making the choice, everything was at stake: the practitioner's life, all that was dear and beloved to him, all that he carefully preserved and for which he was prepared to do anything. At the same time, the continuation of self-inquiry contained within it the potential possibility of overcoming the crisis and not returning to it again and again.
Having investigated himself, the practitioner understood the cause of the crisis, understood why it could not be resolved by less radical measures. The cause of the crisis lay in the very foundation of the practitioner's "i"; his entire life was built upon this foundation; all of the practitioner's actions contained this foundation, originating from it. The cause lay in the fundamental structure of the practitioner himself, in the very first brick of the intricate construction of the "i" – in fear.
Having studied it, the practitioner understood that fear is not an error or an enemy. Without it, life itself could hardly take place: life is defenseless and fragile; it strives to take root in an unknown world, overcoming the shock of birth and the initial difficulties.
Fear is a survival defense mechanism, but its expediency is limited. Fear becomes an impediment when the difficulties are overcome. The "cocoon" becomes constricting but continues to perform its functions, working equally in both directions: it protects from the world "outside," while simultaneously preventing understanding from breaking through the "cocoon" from within.
In the case of the practitioner, the way out of the crisis was not the reinforcement of boundaries but their overcoming: to investigate one's own nature, find the boundaries, and step into the unknown. Overcoming fear opened the space that lies on the other side of the "i" cocoon. The process of metamorphosis.
The practitioner sees in people the same thing he saw in himself: the "i" of a typical human is built on fear.
Fear is the basic survival mechanism, applied as a criterion of truth within a human's self-enclosed frame of reference. This state of affairs has turned this basic mechanism into a life strategy adopted "by default."
Progress and achievements have not led to a change in the basic settings of the human, have not rid humanity of crises and suffering. Replacing "bad" with "good," "old" with "new" treats the symptoms without affecting the cause.
The crisis is a direct consequence of the "i" structure having reached a critical mass, being unable to sustain itself, and standing at the limit of its stability.
The first path: to continue living the same life. Nothing needs to be undertaken; this is the obvious "default" path.
The second path: to try to engage in self-inquiry – to turn directly to the cause of the crisis and investigate it. A difficult path, with no guarantee of success.
Both paths are equally legitimate; they are phases of a single process, like inhaling and exhaling. At the same time, they are oppositely directed, and it is not possible to follow both paths at once; compromise is absent due to the properties of the cause of the crisis. The opposite directions of the paths lead to different consequences.
The first is the path of accumulation.
The second is the path of transforming the accumulated.
Choice is not about choosing within the confines of the "cocoon." Here, choice is not a ratio of benefit and discomfort, not a moral category, and not an act of will, but a mode of self-regulation in the process of life: whether the possibility for accumulation remains or the time has come to exhale.
Project Metamorphosis only makes this choice visible.
The main difference between the paths lies in their foundation. The foundation of the first path remains untouched – it is fear. The second path proceeds from honesty.
Honesty is the absence of fear.
End of project