A real lesson is possible. Its precondition is that identity – like belief – should be suspended prior to entering the classroom. This precondition is intrinsic to all lessons – in fact, it IS the lesson, the suspension of identity is what was being taught — the teacher wasn’t saying anything else of importance.
This is why the lesson always appears to the student like a fruit, wrapped in prickly skin. With the difference that, to get to the fruit of communication, identity itself is what is peeled away.
You therefore have to passionately desire fruit to participate in the lesson. Obviously if you think the fruit’s not worth it, you get to keep your skin intact.
Sometimes the lesson will offer some kind of initial bait (a batted eyelash, a show of leg) to seduce you into taking the plunge and attempting to tackle the fruit. But that incentive is a kind of platonic reflection of a reward that transcends reward.
There are different fruits, different skins, different lessons — as many as there are different identities. And like identity, they are difference itself, not exchangeable nor comparable. Their properties cannot be generalized.
Everything I have just written constitutes a lesson, for a certain kind of person.
