Q&A with Benoît Teichi, author of “The Observer and the Lover”

-


Q&A with Benoît Teichi, author of The Observer and the Lover

1. What is the inspiration behind the book?

Your book, The Observer and the Lover, explores how we can become more aware of our lives while remaining fully engaged in the human experience. What inspired you to write this book, and was there a particular experience or realization that changed the way you understand yourself and the world?

I wrote it because of what I was living. During a period of my life, I began to notice a kind of conversation between my inner world and the way I was experiencing the outside world. We do not only live what happens to us. We also shape it, through the way we meet it: our state of mind, our awareness, the meaning we give to what is happening.

I looked for a book that described this the way I felt it, and I could not find one. So I wrote the book I had been looking for.

The realization underneath it came slowly, through very ordinary moments. When a strong emotion came over me, fear, desire, disappointment, I noticed that something in me could see it happening. Before, it was “I am afraid.” Later, it became “Fear is here.” That small difference created an enormous amount of space. The feeling was still real, but it was no longer my whole identity. That quiet part that notices is what I call the Observer. And the part that feels, wants, loves and sometimes hurts is the Lover. Understanding that both belong to me changed the way I live.

2. Understanding the Observer and the Lover

In your philosophy, the Observer represents our capacity to witness and become aware of our experience, while the Lover represents our capacity to feel, connect, and participate in life. How can we cultivate both qualities without becoming detached from our emotions or overwhelmed by them?

I think we lose balance in two ways. Some of us stand back and watch life from a distance: we analyze and worry, but never quite step in. Others jump in so deeply that every emotion pulls us away from ourselves. I have lived both.

The answer is not to choose one side. The Observer does not need to silence the Lover, and the Lover does not need to forget the Observer. When an emotion comes, I let the Lover feel it fully, without rushing or pretending. At the same time, I let the Observer name it gently: “Sadness is here.” Feeling keeps us alive and human. Seeing keeps us from drowning.

The meeting place of the two is the present moment. The Observer can only see what is happening now, and the Lover can only feel what is happening now. So when I come back to the present, through my breath, my feet on the ground, or simply riding my bicycle in the early morning, the two meet again. From there, I can take part in my life without losing myself in it.

3. Awakening without escaping everyday life

Many spiritual teachings emphasize detachment, transcending the ego, or finding peace by stepping back from the world. Your book seems to offer a different perspective: awakening can involve participating more fully in life. What does conscious participation mean to you, and how might it change the way we approach ordinary experiences?

For me, being human is not something we need to escape. The emotions, the uncertainty, the love, the fear, the beauty of living through something: all of that is part of why we are here.

I believe the light in us came to experience life, and it can only do that through a body. So awakening does not mean stepping above life. You still feel, still struggle, still love and make mistakes. But underneath it all, there is a quiet knowing: I am a light, living through a body. From that knowing, you take part differently. That is what I call conscious participation.

In everyday life, I hold it in three steps. Everything is perfect: accept the moment as it is. Participate: do your part fully. Surrender: let go of what you cannot control. “Perfect” does not mean good, and it never excuses harm. It means: this is what is real now, and it is where I begin. When something goes wrong, I ask quietly, “This is perfect. Now, what is mine to do?” That question has changed how I meet ordinary days: a delay, a difficult conversation, a closed door.

4. The spiritual significance of love

Your article for Spiritual Media Blog, “Why I Call It the Lover,” explores the importance of the Lover in your philosophy. What does the word Lover mean to you beyond romantic love, and how can reconnecting with this part of ourselves help us experience a deeper connection with ourselves, other people, and life itself?

For me, love is not possession. Love is recognition. When you truly love someone, something in you recognizes Life itself, appearing in another form. Someone who seemed separate becomes someone whose experience matters to you.

I learned this through a relationship that did not become what I first imagined. There was someone I thought I might date. As I came to know him, I understood that we did not want the same things. At another time in my life, I might have tried to make it work anyway. This time, I let the truth be the truth. The romantic possibility changed, but the affection did not have to become hatred. The connection found another form, and it became valuable in its own way.

That is the difference I see between love and possession. Possession says: if I love you, you need to become what I hoped you would become. Love says: I see you. And seeing someone clearly includes allowing them to be free, and allowing yourself to be free too.

I also see love in ordinary kindness. Kindness is love in everyday clothes: how you speak to the person who serves your coffee, how you answer a difficult email, how you treat someone who can do nothing for you. It is not weakness. You can be kind and still have boundaries. You can say no kindly.

That is where love becomes a spiritual practice for me. Love does not hold on. It recognizes, and it lets be.

5. Letting go without giving up

One of the challenges of personal and spiritual growth is learning to distinguish between what we can influence and what we must allow to unfold. How can we give ourselves fully to our relationships, work, and aspirations while releasing the need to control every outcome?

In my book I use the image of a seed. When a real desire appears, you plant it, you water it, you give it sun. And then you let it be. It is so tempting to dig up the earth every morning to check whether something is growing. I have done it many times. But checking again and again is not faith. It is worry, pretending to be action.

At the same time, surrender is not doing nothing. A seed does not plant itself. If you want to build something, you start building it. If an opportunity appears, you still have to show up, listen, and walk through the door.

So I keep it simple: action is mine, control is not. I do my part fully, with discipline and care, and then I release the result. Do the job. Do the process. Surrender the result. You can want something deeply without chasing it desperately.

6. Finding meaning in difficult experiences

Spiritual growth is often associated with moments of peace, insight, or connection, but much of life involves disappointment, uncertainty, grief, and struggle. How does your philosophy help us relate to painful experiences, and is it possible to remain open to life even when we do not understand why something difficult is happening?

I want to be gentle here, because pain is real, and grief does not need to be rushed or fixed. The Lover feels endings deeply, and that is right.

What the Observer offers is not an explanation, but company. It stays beside the pain while we feel it. And over time, I have noticed something in my own life: things that looked wrong in the moment, a door that closed, a plan that fell apart, later revealed themselves as part of the path that brought me here. We only see one piece at a time.

When my father passed away, I was a student far from home. It felt as if the world had stopped. Today I carry him with me in a simple way: he loved sport, and when I bike or swim with everything I have, I meet him there. I learned that love does not disappear when its form changes. Sometimes the healthiest way to let something go is to allow it to have mattered.

So yes, I believe we can stay open even when we do not understand why something is happening. We do not need to understand right away. We can ask, gently, “What is this showing me?” and let the answer come in its own time.

7. Bringing the philosophy into everyday life

Spiritual ideas can be inspiring, but translating them into daily practice can be challenging. What are one or two simple practices readers can use to become more aware of their experience, reconnect with their capacity to love, and participate more consciously in everyday life? What might change when we stop treating awakening as something we must achieve and begin to see it as a different way of relating to the life we are already living?

Two simple practices:

The first is for difficult moments. Notice: let the Observer see what is happening, “Hurt is here,” not “I am hurt.” Feel: let the Lover feel it fully, without pretending. Ask: when you are ready, “What is mine to do?” or, when someone has hurt you, “What if I forgive?”

The second is a way back to the present. Feel your feet on the ground. Take one slow breath. Notice three things you can see and one sound you can hear. That is all. You are back. For me, it is often the body that brings the mind home: an early bicycle ride, the water in the pool, a few minutes of silence before I touch my phone.

And I think everything changes when we stop treating awakening as something to achieve. You do not need to become worthy before you live fully. Awakening is not a finish line. It is a way of relating to the life you are already living: seeing clearly, feeling fully, and taking part. You are not here only to watch life. You are here to live it.

8. Where can we get a copy of your book or learn more about you?

The Observer and the Lover: Everything Is Perfect: A Philosophy of Conscious Participation is available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle, and as an audiobook on ElevenReader and Spotify. Its practice companion, Don’t Dig Up the Seed, is available in paperback.

Website: https://benoitteichi.netlify.app

The book on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HL8C4476

Author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/benoitteichi



Source link

Share this article

Recent posts

Popular categories

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here

Recent comments