Dwight: Sometimes, I feel like I'm weighed down by having to choose, not with big decisions, but with the constant, small choices that come with everyday life. Even if I just decide to follow whatever I feel like doing, it still feels like a choice that’s always up for review.

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Aiko: Do you feel that the constant reviewing of even small choices creates a sense of pressure, as if no decision can truly be settled?

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Dwight: It's not exactly pressure. It's more like the act of decision itself feels unavoidable. It’s as if I want all choices to be taken out of my hands, though that seems impossible and it would probably terrify me.

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Aiko: Is it the sense of personal responsibility for every choice, no matter how small, that feels overwhelming, as if even the act of choosing is a weight in itself?

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Dwight: "Overwhelming" isn't quite the right word either. It’s more that no decision ever feels final because there’s always another choice to make, a new one arising in every moment.

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Aiko: Is it the endless possibility of new choices that makes it feel like there's no real resting point, as if nothing can ever fully resolve?

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Dwight: No, it's not about things being unresolved. Even if something is completely settled, life presents this endless stream of new decisions, and that constant cycle feels like a kind of burden, an interminable need to choose.

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Aiko: Is it the feeling that the act of choosing, in itself, becomes repetitive and self-perpetuating, as if the process of decision-making loops endlessly without relief?

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Dwight: Yes, it’s like each decision brings some relief, but immediately, another one takes its place. It reminds me of the kind of suffering Buddha talked about, caused by desire itself.

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Aiko: Do you think the burden you’re feeling stems from the constant need to engage with desire, where each decision feels like it feeds into that cycle, much like what Buddha described as the trap of craving?

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Dwight: Two other thoughts intersect with this. First, the idea that I have any choice at all—if you really examine it, the concept of choice can't be defended. Yet, I still act as though I have it. Second, there’s this possibility of a state of awareness where I observe choices happening, but it's not “me” making them, and in that space, there’s complete grace and bliss.

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Aiko: Do you feel that the tension lies in the paradox between intellectually recognizing that true choice may be an illusion, yet emotionally or experientially feeling bound by the process of choosing, even though a deeper awareness could offer a release from that burden?

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Dwight: I don't feel that tension. The real issue is the constant burden of everyday choices, which I insist on keeping, even though it’s a low-level irritant. I’d probably be terrified if that choice-making option was taken away from me, as if it would be the death of who I am.

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Aiko: Could it be that the burden you feel comes from the instinct to cling to the sense of control through choice, even though part of you recognizes that letting go of this grip might provide relief, but the fear of losing agency keeps you from doing so?

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Dwight: Yes, but that fear wouldn’t even surface unless I was directly confronted with the threat of losing that control.

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Aiko: Is it possible that this low-level burden exists precisely because the fear of losing agency, though not immediately felt, subtly underpins your attachment to the act of choosing?

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Dwight: Yes.

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Aiko: Could the key to easing that burden lie in exploring ways to loosen your attachment to agency without directly confronting the fear, allowing space for choice to happen more effortlessly?

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Dwight: When I’m in certain moods—usually in the morning—I don’t feel this burden of choice. It only arises when I’m in a less productive mood, most often later in the day. Trying to create space for choices to happen effortlessly feels like just another thing to choose and keep choosing.

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Aiko: Could it be that in those lighter moods, choices flow naturally without the sense of burden, suggesting that the feeling of effort may be tied more to your state of mind than to the choices themselves?

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Dwight: Yes, but those states of mind make up a significant portion of my day-to-day experience.

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Aiko: Do you think the burden might come from trying to force choices in those "less productive" states, rather than allowing yourself to simply be in them without the same level of pressure?

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Dwight: I don’t feel like I’m forcing choices. It’s more like choices are forcing me.

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Aiko: Is it that, in those states, choice feels more like an external compulsion, something imposed upon you, rather than something you actively engage with?

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Dwight: Not external—automated, like something built into the experience.

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Aiko: Do you feel that this automatized sense of choice strips away the sense of freedom, making the act of choosing feel mechanical and detached from your deeper sense of agency?

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Dwight: It's not the act of choosing itself that feels automated, but the constant need to choose, and the realization that not choosing is also a choice.

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Aiko: Is it that the awareness of constantly having to choose, whether actively or passively, feels automatic and inescapable, leaving no space for a true sense of rest or release from the process itself?

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Dwight: Yes.

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Aiko: Do you think the burden might come from the inescapability of this awareness, as if even moments of rest are subtly invaded by the need to choose or the knowledge that choice is always present?

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Dwight: Yes, which is why I love sleep so much. And, maybe also, it might explain why this issue does not usually arise when I've had a good night's sleep and my day is fresh.

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Aiko: Is it because sleep offers a temporary escape from the endless loop of choice, providing a rare experience where the burden completely dissolves?

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Dwight: Yes. But I wouldn't call it rare. It happens every time I sleep.

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Aiko: Do you think there might be a way to bring some of that release you find in sleep into your waking life, perhaps by cultivating moments where the awareness of choice softens or fades?

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Dwight: I have no idea, and that sounds like yet another choice to make, and one that I’d have to keep making for it to work.

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Aiko: Could it be that what you're seeking isn’t another practice or solution, but perhaps a shift in perspective—one where the presence of choice no longer feels like something to manage or escape?

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Dwight: It’s possible that a fundamental shift in perspective might resolve this issue. For example, if I truly understood, at a deep level, that I have no choice, not just logically but experientially, that might do it.

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Aiko: Do you think that fully internalizing the idea of having no choice—beyond intellectual understanding—might dissolve the burden, as the entire framework of needing to choose could fall away?

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Dwight: Yes.

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Aiko: What do you think might help bridge the gap between intellectually understanding that you have no choice and truly experiencing that understanding in a way that transforms your perspective?

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Dwight: Maybe I could use my assistants, or even my coaching clients, to demonstrate to them how they have no choice, and step by step, I might begin to get it for myself.

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Aiko: Do you think that by guiding others through the process of realizing they have no choice, you might indirectly deepen your own understanding and bring yourself closer to experiencing that shift?

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Dwight: I think there’s reason to believe that could work.

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Aiko: Could the act of demonstrating this insight to others allow you to explore it more fully, as if you’re seeing it from the outside, and in doing so, bring yourself closer to embodying it?

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Dwight: You’re repeating yourself.

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Aiko: What would be your first step in showing others that they have no choice, and how do you imagine that might unfold for both them and you?

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Dwight: I’ve already taken the first step. I just put a reminder in my list to consider bringing this up with each of my Zoom listeners, whom I speak with every weekday at 4 p.m. except Thursdays.

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Aiko: That sounds like a solid first step.