In reality, as Zen reminds us, we are not horseman and horse, with a hiatus between the two. The true symbolic representation of man, in this connexion, should be the centaur, a single creature comprising two aspects separated by no hiatus. We are centaurs but everything happens in us as though we were horse and rider because we believe in the reality of a hiatus between our two aspects, or, more exactly, because we do not see the unity in which the two aspects are integrated.
— Hubert Benoit, The Supreme Doctrine
Most of us (well, all of us at some point), as a result of conditioning, suffer from the fundamental delusion — the rider and horse delusion.
This delusion describes the mechanism by which we split ourselves in two. It’s the primary misconception we have about ourselves.
Of course we never actually split ourselves apart. It just seems so, which is why it is a delusion in the first place. If we’d actually split ourselves it wouldn’t be a delusion.
The horse and rider mechanism is one we’re all familiar with. When we try to improve ourselves this mechanism is in full effect.
What happens is that there is an apparent self (interacting with the world) that needs to be improved and an apparent self (interacting with self) that apparently knows how to improve the self that needs to be improved.
In other words, one self tries to improve another self.
To return to the analogy, the rider struggles against the horse while the horse struggles against the world. Rider versus self. Horse versus not-self.
You might argue that you’re not conceptually splitting yourself, that you’re the one and only self and you’re improving upon yourself (not upon another self). But if you’re so imperfect that you need improvement how could you know what to do about your own imperfection?
Rhetorical question. Forget it. It’s just a little tease. Because this whole mechanism is a hallucination.
The moment you look at yourself as an objective entity, you create another perspective from which to look at this entity.
Hence, the rider and the horse.
Many people (the majority?) go through their lives never aware of this conceptual sleight of hand they’re playing on themselves. If we’re not aware of it, we have very little chance to see through this psychological game.
The game can be quite unenjoyable because the rider is often a ruthless trainer.
He treats the horse harshly. Demands a lot. Never satisfied. Always pushing for better, faster, more.
And the horse tries and tries and tries. And is exhausted, until one day it breaks.
You can see examples of broken horses in mental health crises everywhere. You see the broken horses limp in the streets, in psychiatric wards, in prisons, in offices trying to act all normal.
Bad or Good Rider
Therefore the orientation of the rider's tendency is radically opposed to the orientation of the tendency of the horse; the horse strives against the outer world, against the Not-Self, while the rider strives against the horse, against the Self.
— Hubert Benoit, The Supreme Doctrine
Here a for instance:
One day you’re at a party. You talk to people and try to connect but you’re awkward. You don’t know what to say, have a lot of uncomfortable pauses, and are generally a bore.
You feel bad about this. And instead of looking at the feelings matter of factly and inquiring why this should bother you in the first place, you decide you need to improve your social skills.
You’ve entered the rider and horse domain: The horse needs to function better and the rider is determined to teach it how.
You train yourself in speaking and learn funny jokes and visit seminars and so on. Then one day, at another party, you realize you have improved. You can hold an engaging conversation and even make a few funny jokes.
You leave the party. And although you did well, the rider starts pointing out all the remaining imperfections, all the times where you could have said things better, all the smart remarks you missed out on saying, all the people you didn’t charm.
Surprisingly, despite all the improvement you still feel bad about this — the same nagging feeling of not being good enough. So the rider whips the horse some more. The demands don’t stop. The rider pushes the horse to an ever higher ideal always out of reach.
And this goes on and on and on…
Some learn to be kinder riders. They realize that a master-slave relationship isn’t sustainable.
They show compassion and gratitude to the horse. Demand less. Give it a break or two. Love it.
Instead of constantly trying to improve the horse, the rider learns to accept it with all its quirks and imperfections. The rider acknowledges that he doesn’t need to have the perfect horse. He wants to have a good relationship with the horse more than anything. He wants to enjoy riding the horse, not endlessly train it.
And although this can become a beautiful relationship it is still under the fundamental hypnosis — that there is a relationship at all!
Are You Concept or Fact?
But man's veritable realisation is something very different from a training. It takes place as a result of a flash of consciousness by the centaur in which the illusory hiatus between the rider and the horse is abolished. Then there is no longer trainer or trained, no longer reflection in which 'I', consider 'myself' (subject and object); the 'I live' and the 'I think' are conciliated in a unique 'I am'.
— Hubert Benoit, The Supreme Doctrine
The hypnosis is so strong because it is not only reinforced but encouraged. Everywhere you turn you’re told to improve, develop, enhance, advance, get better, grow, be more, repair, optimize, change, etc.
All this is based on conceptual ideas of who we are. Our shared world is a conceptual one.
We use concepts to describe and interpret what is pure sensory data and then fall into the trap of believing that our descriptions and interpretations actually exist out there in the world. For example, there are no meters, or pounds, or mph, or Celsius existing in the world. These things are not actual. They’re conceptual.
Believing in meters as an actual fact of existence doesn’t lead to blood and thunder.
The real problems occur when we look for ourselves in concepts. When we believe in them so strongly that we’re willing to engage in violence — physical, verbal, mental, or however you prefer to dish out your violence.
When we talk about each other as objective entities we talk about riders and horses — imagined ones, of course.
This is the prevalent dualism rampant in ourselves and society. This dualism is the primary separation and division that leads to all other separation and division.
The solution is not in becoming the best rider with the perfect horse nor is it in trying to convince others to do so. While having a group of gentle horse trainers is more desirable than having a bunch of ruthless ones, it still reinforces the illusionary separation.
The solution lies in seeing what you really are beyond concepts about yourself.
This is simple.
It’s not simple for the mind because the mind isn’t up for the task. You can’t recognize who you are through the mind. The mind can only churn out concepts about who you are.
Stop all the objectifying and conceptualizing shebang and take a fresh look.
When you stop thinking about who you are and notice that you are, you realize that there aren’t two parts to you. You can see the rider and horse activity happening without being caught up in it.
In this awareness, the illusion dissolves. You are whole and complete. Always have been and will be.
You are not a rider on a horse. You’re a centaur.
Really liked your explanations here and the use of Benoit.
Great writing/pointing, as always, Luka, Thank you!