Spirits Calling

"My soul glowed from the fire of your fire. Your world was a whispering water At the river of my heart." --by the poet Rumi

While in love we often fear, often unconsciously fear, that another will subsume us, that we will drown in relationship, and to some extent this is true. The ego must move aside for the opening to the path to love. Love and the soul however will not be lost or drown in another. Rather these are our immutable essences; they cannot be lost or drowned, and yet ego strongly fears this fate. Our sense of self-protection that is ego rapidly assesses any situation in which we must potentially yield to be a threat.

There is a fundamental mystery to the soul, however, writes Deepak Chopra in his book, The Path to Love. He writes further, "its integrity is not violated by merging with another person. The blending of two spirits brings more to the union than each partner started with. The process of soul-making that used to be [for me alone] "me" is now for "us." The poet Rumi expressed this thought with these words:

My soul glowed from the fire of your fire.

Your world was a whispering water.

At the river of my heart.

With the growth of spiritual realization is the awareness that two can be as one; that the multiple aspects of the Dharmakaya are are work; that the Christian idea of a triune relationship within the soul of a great spirit, communing with God are all infinite and possible. While in the state of ego, on the other hand, persons remain isolated and self-protected as if in a siege mentality. There then is no room for the other; often a feeling of isolation and a vague, undefined loneliness results. Yet spirit calls to us powerfully, first, in romantic love. 

We fall in love and for the first time as Rumi passionately writes, we have the opportunity to engage our self into self as an expansion of identity. The Spirit uses relationship as its vehicle. No man is an island; spirit calls to us to overcome our fears such that love may be its replacement.

Once in relationship, however we gain a foothold over ourselves despite the passion, despite the growing self awareness, and ego often returns to us with a vengeance. Falling in love is delightful; it is passion, and a glimpse of the spirit itself. Being in love, love itself entails commitment, and a certain struggle. Many who come to this place in their spiritual journeys feel a sense of loss, and fear what is to come next. 

Relationships have consequences. While they give to each person a sense of belonging, friendship, security and compassion, love also demands something from each partner. Things like patience, devotion, persistence are part of the work and struggle to be realized along the path. Sometimes relationship is hard and painful. Resolution brings joy, and it brings disappointment. "The only real difference between romance and relationship, spiritually speaking, has to do with surrender. Surrender comes naturally to two people when they first fall in love." Love's first flush gives us the courage to do that, to be fearless and act under its protective power. Spiritually, surrender is a solution to the paradox existing between ego and spirit. 

Yet persons who love, who are intimates, over time often find that the ego, now returned carries them on its own agenda. Lovers play games to test one another, they withhold themselves; they are unwilling to give to spirit, and they are unwilling to give to and serve one another. Surrender now must be conscious. It must be an act of free will, of choosing this as your path. Chopra writes, "this isn't to say that surrender isn't hard work; it is conscious work. As such it can bring the same joy and delights as falling in love, the same sense of play which relieves lovers of the ego burdens." 

The British writer and poet, D. H. Lawrence wrote, "That is the crystal of peace, the slow hard jewel of trust, the sapphire of fidelity. The gem of mutual peace emerging from the wild chaos of love."

A free loving commitment of the will made to another is the realization over time of: peacefulness, a companionship and a trust made by the Spirit to another which is, and is not self. "When they are fully committed... they see God in each other." On that basis, they are able to surrender, not to one another so much, as to surrender themselves to the God in each other, and to the God, the Dharmakaya in all things. Dharma is an ancient idea. It means perhaps most fully, sacredness. In its Sanskrit origin, dharma means to sustain or uphold. 

Thus what upholds, honors, or respects another's life is in keeping with dharma. It is, for example in dharma not to tell lies, to deceive oneself or others. Dharma looks to the sacred, it is tied to and intimately guided by spirit. Dharmakaya, likewise, is Karuna, love; love then is a guiding force emanating from the great being, the Dharmakaya. Thus surrender in relationship is surrender to spirit, to dharma. In the Way of the Beloved, the dharma is "a vision of spiritual equality; when you perceive life through this vision, separation ends."

Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Relation Between Man and Vegetable

"More servants wait on man than he'll take notice of." Ralph Waldo Emerson


Many over the eons have conceived of, and written of a conception of nature, herself. However in 1848 the American thinker, Ralph Waldo Emerson, engaged himself in the "Free Soilers" movement with other contemporaries such as the future president, Abraham Lincoln and emerged with an expanded notion of Nature. He wrote about the subject of nature and the soul in his book, Nature, in 1836 to form the early ideas of Transcendenalism. Nature expressed Emerson's theories that the imagination of man is shaped by nature herself, most plainly and most cleanly.

Quickly he emerged as a central figure in the nascent American Transcendentalist movement. Now, before you laugh too hard over the title of this post, read a bit further into the mind of one of our Nation's great thinkers. Emerson wrote of Nature that:

"To go into solitude, a man needs to retire as much from his chamber as from society. I am not solitary whilst I read and write, though nobody is with me. But if a man would be alone, let him look at the stars. The rays that come from those heavenly worlds, will separate between him and what he touches... The stars awaken a certain reverence, because though always present, they are inaccessible; but all natural objects make a kindred impression, when the mind is open to their influence. Nature never wears a mean appearance. Neither does the wisest man extort her secret, and lose his curiosity by finding out all her perfection.

Nature never became a toy to a wise spirit. The flowers, the animals, the mountains, reflected the wisdom of his best hour, as much as they had delighted the simplicity of his childhood... The greatest delight which the fields and woods minister, is the suggestion of an occult relation between man and the vegetable. I am not alone and unacknowledged. They nod to me, and I to them. The waving of the boughs in the storm, is new to me and old. It takes me by surprise, and yet is not unknown. Its effect is like that of a higher thought or a better emotion coming over me, when I deemed I was thinking justly or doing right."

Heretics and Buddhas

"During the time of the Buddha, there were some who slandered him and became disciples of heretics and demons." -- Mud & Water by Bassui, edited by A. Braverman

While some might wish to think of  "Heretics" in conjunction with an event such as the Christian-fueled Spanish Inquisition or the Crusades of Europe, fewer would bring the name of the Buddha to mind. Yet the great Zen master, Bassui does. It seems that all thinking souls are moved to discernment. He writes:

"Today's students of the Way go to teachers everywhere, but they don't want to penetrate all the way to the bottom of the great matter. They journey to the east, to the west, north and south, and take pride in having met many teachers. They try to surpass others with Zen stories and they collect paradoxical words and clever expressions from old masters. These are the ways of Heretics."

Writing further on the subject, Bassui delves into the value of knowledge. He writes of the karmic affinity for the way. Stating that some people have an affinity for the way while others do not, so if your karma does not discern a natural attraction, one that is immediate and affected, then you  neither trust nor believe what is taught. If, on the other hand, affinity is present, then that person will form a natural and easy bond with you. "Whether you follow the right path, or the path of heretics, depends upon your karmic inclination....A truly good teacher...does not destroy people's sight."

MeisterEckhart

Some people say: 'Alas, sir, I wish I stood as well with my spiritual life and devotions, that I had as much devotion and were as much at peace with the Spirit as others are, I wish I were like them, or that I were so poor'; 'I can never manage it unless I go here or there, or do this or that. I must get away from it all, go and live in a cell or a cloister.'
--advices from Master Eckhart


Eckhart, spiritual guide and mystic, wrote on the subject of finding peace and comfort in the world. From his view it's dependent upon the fact that the reason for unease lies entirely with yourself and with nothing else, though you may not know it or believe it: restlessness  arises in you as the self-as-it-wills; whether you own it or not.
We may think a person must avoid certain things or people; that they seek other places, people or methods, company or activity.  Yet according to Eckhart, none is the reason why you find yourself held back: it's you yourself in the pursuit of those things which prevents one, 'for you have an inaccurate regard towards things."

Therefore he recommends one start first with oneself. Observe yourself.  In truth, unless you let go first of yourself, whatever you try, you will find obstacles. There will be indecision and restlessness, no matter where you are. 
If people seek peace in outward things, places or methods or in people or in deeds, the elimination of other people, poverty, humiliation, however great or small, is all in vain because it garners no peace. Why? Eckhart would say that its lack is due to the pursuit, rather tyhan opening ones' hand in the stillness of the world many seek forcefully to acquire.

 What does often result is that this chase, the pursuit of the desired result itself becomes the focus, a sort of ends though not one which often results in spiritual or other peace.
Observe yourself, and wherever you find yourself, leave yourself: that is the very best way, because we often find ourselves in ways and places we did not first imagine. Yet we are there, and that may not be a poor place to be. The spirit moves as it will. May we move likewise.

*Maya Angelou Crackers Sometimes

"When they go, Ghana will be here. They are like mice on an elephant's back. They will pass...He is just part of Africa." --All God's Children Need  Traveling Shoes by Maya Angelou

The American writer and poet, Maya Angelou was among the last of a generation who were raised under the full weight of segregation. As a child in rural Stamps, Arkansas, Ms. Angelou was privileged to be the grand daughter of a land owning woman with an independent business in the village of Stamps. From her relatively secure position, she became educated and an inveterate reader of all types of literature.
Steeped in the ways of the old South, by necessity, Ms. Angelou's early life formed a resolute character that later supported her as she forged forward to New York's Harlem in the 1950's. A supporter of Martin Luther King and later of Malcolm X, she earned her "radical" stripes early.

Reading her work chronicled together as an autobiography is an eye-opening journey with a brave and determined woman. But she also shows herself to be like anyone anywhere; Ms. Angelou is not perfect.
She repeatedly retorts with prejudices of her own youth and despite her extensive literary style, does at times pejoratively refer to some as "crackers". For the casual reader of Ms. Angelou, this may come as a surprise. She, these days, is perhaps equally well known as one whose words accompany Hallmark greeting cards. Yet a more thorough reading of her works reveals a woman who is complex and honest enough to admit her thoughts and what she learns.  
All God's Children Need Traveling Shoes has many nuggets; one in particular is when as the focus of the tale, Maya emigrates to Ghana, intending to leave all the strife behind in America. In Ghana she is surprised and repeatedly confronted with the unexpected:

"Professor, why you let them disturb your heart?"
 I stuttered... 

"They were insulting my people. I just couldn't sit there." 

His smiled never changed. "And your people, they my people?"

"Yes but--I mean American Blacks."

"They been insulted before?"

"Yes--but..."

"And they still live?"

"Yes, but... they also insulted Ghana, your country."

"Oh Sister, as for that one, it is nothing..." 

He said, "This is not their place. In time they will pass. 

Ghana was here when they came. When they go, Ghana will be here. 

They are like mice on an elephant's back. They will pass."

She is then astonished that a simple Ghanaian man could be so secure in this knowledge that he could ignore another's rudeness. 
He concludes his thought with the observation, that even that man, he is also a part of Africa, a place made of many nations, peoples and cultures. Despite many false starts, Ms. Angelou comes to learn that she too has a place while not as a returned African, but as a living, breathing "Black American" in Africa.
This story tells her tale. Spiritually it is poignant in her struggle for understanding of herself and others; she makes sense of the precept of meeting one another on level ground, neither better no worse, telling her experience as she perceives it.

*Ms. Angelou observed her 86th birthday April 4, 2013

The Feast of Saint Valentine

The name "Valentine", is derived from valens, meaning worthy, and was popular in late antiquity.
Of the Saint Valentine whose feast is on February 14, nothing factual is known except his name and that he was buried at the Via Flaminia north of Rome on February 14. It is even uncertain whether the feast of that day celebrates only one saint or more saints of the same name.

At least three different Saint Valentines, all of them martyrs, are mentioned in the early martyrologies under the date of 14 February. One is described as a priest at Rome, another as bishop of Interamna (modern Terni), and these two seem both to have suffered in the second half of the third century and to have been buried on the Flaminian Way, but at different distances from the city.

Of both these St. Valentines, some sort of Acta are preserved, but they are of relatively late date and of no historical value. Of the third Saint Valentine, who suffered in Africa with a number of companions, nothing further is known.
~excerpt from The Catholic Encyclopedia

The feast day of Saint Valentine, priest and martyr, was included in the Tridentine Calendar, with the rank of Simple, on February 14. In 1955, Pope Pius XII reduced the celebration to a commemoration within the celebration of the occurring weekday. In 1969, this commemoration was removed from the General Roman Calendar. However, it remains one of the Catholic saint days.

The full history of St. Valentine's Day is blurry and nobody really knows who the real St. Valentine was. There are many stories and myths, and there were three different Valentines who were martyred. One was a priest who lived in Rome and was supposedly martyred in 269 A.D. The second, a bishop, lived in Interamna (modern-day Treni) in Italy. There was a very obscure third Valentine who met his fate in Africa. The first Valentine, from Rome, is generally considered the right person and is associated with a charming but also gruesome story:

During the reign of Roman Emperor Claudius II from 268 to 270 A.D., it became important to recruit young men to the army, but the response was low because men didn’t want to leave their wives and families. In reaction to the low interest, the emperor decided to prohibit marriages. But Valentine didn’t accept this and secretly performed marriages between young Christian men and women. He was eventually caught and sentenced to death.

The Roman emperors were firmly against the Christians until the fourth century A.D. and persecuted them because they were considered a subversive group. One of the major stumbling blocks to accepting the Christian church were the many holidays in celebration of the pagan gods, in which the people of the Roman Empire believed. For instance, the Apostle Paul founded an altar in Athens to the deity who was called "Unknown God," and immediately used this unknown God to introduce Christianity into that community. By this means the faith came to be accepted.

How Valentine's path to Sainthood began--the future saint’s jailer may or may not have had a young daughter, but in any case a young girl began to visit Valentine. He may have fallen in love with her or maybe not, but they met frequently. On February 14, the day that he was to be executed, he wrote her a note and signed it, "From your Valentine." And that is supposedly the origin of the custom of writing one’s beloved a note and signing it with that well-known phrase.
~excerpt from hurriyet.com

Here's the gruesome part of the story: Valentine was beaten to death and decapitated. In 496 A.D. Pope Gelasius set aside Feb. 14 to honor St. Valentine, possibly to turn Roman minds from the licentious behavior associated with the pagan holiday Lupercalia.
~excerpt from hurriyet.com

It is kept as a commemoration by Traditionalist Roman Catholics who, in accordance with the authorization given by Pope Benedict XVI's motu proprio Summorum Pontificum of July 7, 2007, use the General Roman Calendar of 1962 and the liturgy of Pope John XXIII's 1962 edition of the Roman Missal, and, as a Simple Feast, by Traditionalists, such as the Society of St. Pius X, Roman Catholics who continue to use the General Roman Calendar as in 1954.

Saint Valentine continues to be recognized as a saint, since he is included in the Roman Martyrology, the Catholic Church's official list of saints. The feast day of Saint Valentine also continues to be included in local calendars of places such as Balzan and Malta, where relics of the saint are claimed to be found.
~excerpt from Wikipedia

Malthusianism and Scientism

The overproduction of people may lead to an overwhelming burden upon the earth. Science will answer for this concern.

The 19th century Protestant theologian, Thomas Malthus proposed that at some point in the foreseeable future, the world would likely be overpopulated and resources would not be readily available for its inhabitants. Therefore  man's fecundity, his most creative output should be tamed and births controlled. These ideas in part led to the modern drive to limit man in the sexual, procreative arena; it limits women especially. While Malthus was a theologian, today he is primarily remembered for his ideas regarding global and personal economics. He was influential in the incubation of  Darwinian ideas, "natural selection," especially.

Malthus wrote a seminal treatise he entitled, The Essay on the Principle of Population. In this he asserted that: the population forces of earth are so great that in some shape or form, death must be visited upon;  war, sickness and forms of extermination must be permitted. If however, this proves to be insufficient, then the population must be otherwise controlled. Whom is he speaking of, what is the means of control? Who will decide? Is the human of Creation an animal, and should we struggle, to kill for the resources of the world? Is our 'carbon print' poisonous to everyone? While many other 19th century soothsayers died along with that century, Malthus persists in other forms and other names, covertly influencing and directing our actions.

Scientism may be thought of as an exaggerated trust in the absolute empiricism of reasoning. It is partner to the Enlightenment theories arising at about the same century. Scientists engage in empirical reasoning throughout all aspect of life, personal, social, faith, medical, mathematical, humanities, etc. It leads in progression to a "church of Science" or Scientism. The American writer, Robert P. Lockwood notes that Scientism is the product of "two fallacies." First, there is no truth other than that which may be scientifically verifiable, and secondly science is the only acceptable means of running a society. Lockwood notes, "we live in a world where the ethos of the times is reflected in the media."

While both of these thoughts may be in opposite extremes, and both may or may not resonate with everyday spirituality, they are 'out there.' Their influence is lasting and far reaching: into politics, economics, science, and spirituality. Maybe into your head and mine. Where did that come from-- who was Malthus? What do I or do I not support with my everyday faith and beliefs? Some answers are surprising, if you take a look.

Eros In Venus

"Sexual desire without Eros wants the thing in itself." -- The Four Loves,  C.S. Lewis

Venus, the goddess of love in Greek mythology and Eros, god of the same are often bandied about; today science and technology have made us too smart, too slick for something so imprecise as a myth. And yet author C. S. Lewis, most famously wrote about this. Lewis, who is the author of many 20th century works, is best known for Narnia.

About Eros and Venus he writes, Eros without Venus is for lack. Owing to the ancient devotion of the Romans, erotic principle well observed Eros on its own was something altogether different than when enfolded in Venus. As Lewis explains, the 'carnal element within Eros I intend to call Venus.'

"Sexuality,' he adds, ' operates without Eros, or as part of Eros."

It is not necessary to feel anything more than attraction or desire to activate that part of the equation which functions wholly by instinct. And Lewis hastens to add that he writes without moral or other notions, some such as the thought that sex 'with love' is pure while without love it is something else; nor does Lewis seek to describe the activities of Eros 'under a soaring and iridescence which reduces the role of the sense to a minor consideration.'

Eros in Venus is Lewis'; contribution to a description of what the ancients saw as estimable, worthy of a spiritual cause, a religion of degree. This experience he describes as the 'in loveness of the Beloved.' When one first beholds another, it as if he is captured, so captivated may one be by the gazing upon who has inspired this. In a simple, general delight, pre-occupied with all that the one may be, a thirst develops to simply know the creature of ones' gaze, to behold in totality. While in this state one really hasn't the leisure to thing about carnal matters; rather the thought of the person takes precedence. While filled with desire, he may be satisfied to continue in reverie and contemplate this creature whom one may call beloved.

In contemplation, the arrival of Eros, erotic love arrives as if a 'tidal wave, an invader taking over and reorganizing his sensuality. Sexual desire without Eros, wants it, the thing in itself; Eros while in Venus wants the Beloved. While one may want a woman not for herself but for the things she may provide, in Eros one wants a particular person--that person for the person them self. This is the Beloved created through some mysterious activity of Eros; in Eros at its most intense, the beloved is needed, craved even for their very self, distinct and unique from all others, admirable in itself. And it's importance is far beyond the lover's need.

While certainly hard to explain, its metaphysical aspects may be explained thus, 'I am in you, you are in me. Your heart is my heart, and my heart is part of your heart alone.' So without Eros, sexual desires, like every other desire is simply about our self. Eros makes it uniquely other focused. Now it's about the Beloved one. The distinction between giving and receiving blurs, indeed it's obliterated when Eros is in Venus.

On Friendship

"Friendship must be about something." --C.S. Lewis

C.S. Lewis wrote a classical interpretation of many emotions central to human life. In his book, The Four Loves, he addresses the meaning of friendship. Drawing upon rich resources such as the ancient Greeks, Romans, traditions borne through millennia, his view may be termed as western, if not universal.

Lewis delineates the many views of friendship; he describes it as mutuality, as 'seeing the same truth, looking outward, much as French writer, St. Exupery does; he explores friends in the context of erotic love; the search for Beauty, the engagement of spirituality, companionship, and he asserts that it's the least jealous of all the loves.

Where Lovers seek privacy, friends experience enclosure between themselves and the 'herd' rushing around them, and they may not be jealous so are often willing to admit another into their circle.
The American poet Emerson posed the question of a friend several times, simply asking, 'do you care about the same truths as I do?' The answer to this is the point at which a companion may move to a friend.
Shared activities and insights may be a draw for companions who 'share the road.' But a deeper, inner sense recognizing certain truths brings them into the realm of friend.

And while friends may not fully draw the same conclusions, they generally agree on the importance of questions. Seeing the shape of the world in similar fashion draws them to similar questions, if not responses.

Further Lewis argues simple friendship is entirely free of the need to be needed. He writes, "in a circle of true friends, each is simply what he is: stands for nothing but ones' self."

While Eros seeks out naked bodies, friendship seeks naked personalities. There is no absolute duty to friend anyone, nor is there a legal contract such as marriage. 

Friendship comes freely, entirely unencumbered with these other types of strictures.
Yet in modern, industrialized societies friendship is so often undervalued in favor of contractualized relationships as if these are somehow inherently better, more legitimate.
One cannot fail to notice the number and degree of divorces that abound in any given community.

Friends form moreover an appreciation of each other. They not only travel the same roads but their values within the realm of truths inform their judgement, leaving them more clear-eyed about one another.
They are observant of a mutual love and knowledge, and this forms itself into an appreciation a sentiment that often leaves one feeling in his deepest heart, humbled, what is he among those seemingly better, how lucky to be.
And when together among these friends, there is the knowledge that each brings out as if by magic the better in one self, the best, the funniest, the most clever, the beauty. In the conversation, the mind opens to something more, a perception of the self previously unknown comes into view. Life has no better gift to give than a good friend or two.

The Impulse for Affection

"That our affections not kill us, or die." --Donne


Affection unites even the most unlikely of partners. Affection, an intense need to be needed often finds an outlet in attraction, indeed sometimes suffocating obsession, to find, for some, expression in pet holding.
For many, their dog or cat is a substitute for association with ones' fellows. That someone is terribly fond of animals, that they endeavor to protect and pet them tells us little beyond this until we know more clearly their deeper nature.

For some, animals are the bridge between their intellectualism and a corresponding slipping sense for nature; for others it may be a relief from the expectations and demands of human companionship. Animals, after all are animals, they don't object to our coarser habits.

Affection is, after all, responsible for the greatest majority of happiness and contentment we feel in our lives. Yet if one is honest for a moment, it can be seen that affection for all its positiveness can be twisted or warped into something quite different, unrecognizable in its usual form.

Here, it takes a dark shape. Nine tenths of the human population would find this darkness unrecognizable. For those who do recognize such a thing within themselves or others, it might be termed, an 'affection of the fallen,' those who work for wages in the salt mines, who like Pinocchio, find themselves donkeys pulling wagons, enslaved.

Affection, it seems, produces happiness if, only if, there's a good measure of decency, common sense give and take. In other words, mere feeling isn't enough to sustain affection. Greed, self centeredness, deception of self and others are but a few of the darker motives.

If, on the contrary, there's a sense of decency, that's inclusive of give and take, of justice; humility, patience and the admission of a higher, out of self love, affection will be sustained. Affection is respectful, forgiving, tolerant, kind. It thrives on the familiarity of long established ties.

If these types of sensibilities are lacking, affection darkens, or simply fades. There's not enough without decency and fair justice to sustain it. It goes bad. Living through affection alone leads to the pleasures of those who resent, who despise, who hate with an often extreme depravity. "Love,' said author C.S. Lewis, 'becomes a God, becomes a demon."

Affection wishes neither to wound, to dominate nor humiliate. "If you would seek to be loved, be lovable." --Ovid. 
 Affection is neither indifferent nor overwhelming in its attentions. It admits to free will. It is the most humble of loves. As for erotic love, without affection, its lifespan is short. Affection doesn't suffocate, nor does it seek to tie one or another up, to control, to dominate or to submit. These are all for the animals, for whom affection means little.

Zazen, Pure Experience

Recognize that a concept is just a concept, and not reality. --Joko Charlotte Beck

Generalizations. Assumptions. We all make them. And they cause all of us grief. The world as it is. Reality is not an assumption. It's not the way we want things to be, or the way we think about things to be. "Each moment, life as it is--the only Teacher. Being just this moment--compassion's way."

Joko Beck writes in her book, Nothing Special, Living Zen, about the Sufi sage and fool, Nasrudin who was once said to have been in his flower garden sprinkling bread crumbs over everything. His neighbor saw what he was doing and asked him why. To which Nasrudin replied, "to keep the tigers away!" The neighbor laughing, said, "but there aren't tigers within a thousand miles!"
"Effective, isn't it?" said Nasrudin.
Beck writes, "we laugh because we're sure that the two things--bread crumbs and tigers-- have nothing to do with each other. Yet as with Nasrudin, our practice and our lives are based upon false generalizations that have nothing to do with reality."

If we base our lives, most often unconsciously, upon generalizations or assumptions, and we do not ask ourselves or others about what is happening in our lives in this moment, in this day, like Nasrudin we build our understanding upon false notion, upon false generalizations. "Such generalities obscure the specific, concrete reality of our lives."
In fact says Beck, "life is not general, it is specific." Sitting practice, or zazen cuts through the unconsciousness, the grey lights that obscure the more specific observations that we might otherwise make about ourselves and others, views which lead to the questions of how, why, what is this about, or what is necessary?

For example, "instead of I can't stand myself when I do such and such, we [then come to] see more clearly what's going on. We're not covering events with a broad brush" of assumptions, generalizations, powerful emotions--energies that take our focus elsewhere, away from our experience, our situations.

Often, in conversations, we exchange notions and we are like two ships at sea, continuing on, lost in a grey murk of conceptual material, of analytic, virtual thought. Avoiding experience, no contact takes place. It may be a form of Zen combat, or it may be without of an experience precisely for that reason-- experience is what we fear to know about.'

"In Zen practice, we tend to toss around many fancy concepts: Everything is in perfect being as it is, we're all doing the best we can, things are all one, I [you, we are] one with him. We call this Zen bullshit, though other religions have their own versions."
And it's not that the statements are false; they have a universal truth. But, says Beck, "if we stop there, we have turned our practice into an exercise of concepts, and we've lost awareness of what's going on with us right this second. Good practice [zazen] always entails moving through our concepts... recognize that a concept is just a concept, and not reality."

When we "notice our thoughts... then we have to experience the pain that accompanies the thought." Why? Simply because it is our thought, and our pain. We have made them both; they are our very own.
"When we can stay with the pain as a pure physical sensation, then at some point it will dissolve, and we can move into the truth... But we have to move from experience which is painful, into truth and not plaster thoughts over our experience. Intellectual people are particularly prone to this error."
The rational world of concepts is a mere description of the real world. In contrast, when we allow this pure experience of our own, we come into zazen.

As Bassui says, "clearly seeing into one's nature is called practice. And the seat that puts an end to analytic thoughts is called Zazen."
And only when we "move through [to] the experiential level does life have meaning. This is what Christians and Jews mean by 'being with God.'
Experiencing is out of time: it is not the past, not the future, not even the present in the usual sense." Unable to say in words what it is, we can only learn to be of it. Some call it 'an-other world,' or 'living in the spirit.'

Catholic Christian writer, theologian, mystic and Pope, John Paul II, exhorted the practice, saying that "it is not enough to have, we must instead be." He emphasized that we must not only, for example, be in love, to have love, but we ourselves must be that experience--we must be love itself. We must not only have pain or grief, but we must, moreover, be that pain and grief.

A challenge indeed for those on the Way. We all have our favorite notions, our concepts of ourselves and others. They can become 'frozen in time.'
We are caught by the thinking that emphasizes permanence. Yet the world, ourselves, and others are not permanent. At any moment, any cloud, any storm may take us far away to other shores in other places.
Remember that practice is just what is; it is not unusual or exotic. It is not only open to the few; all beings have experiences. Learning to live fully those experiences is what in traditional Buddhist terms, is being buddha-nature itself. "Compassion grows from such roots," emphasizes Joko Beck.

Every Thing in the Tao

"Less and less do you need to force things, until finally you arrive at non-action. When nothing is done, nothing is left undone." --Tao Te Ching

As a dancer knows, absorption into the dance becomes the dancer. Without separate consciousness they become the dance and the dance becomes them. It transpires effortlessly, without active thought. This may be thought of as a model, a clear example of non-action.

The dancer does not think and yet they move about with the music in a pure expression. It is so because "the doer wholeheartedly vanishes into the deed." The fuel completely transforms into flame; the wood is the fire. This 'nothingness' is in fact, everything. Can the dancer force the music, can they make the notes unfold in any other way other than as presented? What other response could they offer as a dancer?

Is singularity in the dance, really isolation; is the cooperation with the musicians less obvious? How does the dancer 'hear' the music? The fluid softness, the supple strength of the dancer occurs as a response to the music, to the musicians, when they trust in the great intelligence of the world, the dharmakaya and the simple intelligence of the body to respond physically, to respond appropriately in harmony, in symphony. The dancer then trusts, not only the present functioning of their own body but also of the musicians and the physics of the music itself

The wisdom book, the ancient Tao Te Ching so popular in the west, especially, tells of the intuitive wisdom of the dancer:

People see some things as beautiful
other things ugly
People see some things as good
other things become bad

Being and non-being create each other
Difficult and easy support each other
Long and short define each other
High and low depend on each other
Before and after follow each other
Therefore the Master
acts without doing anything,
teaches without saying anything,
Things arise. Let them come.
Things disappear. Let them go
Have but not possess
act but not expect
When work is done, forget it.
That is why it lasts forever

In surrender, in giving up notions, judgements and demands, the mind grows naturally into compassion. In dance, self-expression is the evidence. In one's own, deep experience, the central truths of living are revealed; paradoxical as they may first seem, this is only the surface. Deep looking and careful thinking reveal that the more solitary we are, the more compassionate we may be; the more we let go of what we love, the more present our love becomes; the clearer our vision, the more the way presents itself.

Hostage to the Idea of Possession

"Eros makes promises, but agape keeps them." -- The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis

Often we find ourselves in places which we never have dreamed of before, places which call for our complete attention, and challenge us beyond measure. Love is one of those places; yet there is no school for love, no way to read a book to easily or painlessly learn of its nature. So we come into adult life armed with the love we learned as children within our family, the love that we may have encountered in our religious experiences, the friendships we develop in our youth, the pleasures of shared activities and hobbies with family, friends, groups or clubs. All this we bring into adult life, but romantic love, eros, we have the least direct experience of as young adults. Perhaps we witnessed the many occasions of fondness and affection our parents exchanged, a friend in high school, a romantic flush that grew for a few months and then faltered.

Bringing these early experiences into the everyday world, we find that one day, we are inexplicably drawn, impelled into a connection with one who is not our family, not quite like anyone whom we've known before, and yet we are drawn to them, to a flame that seems to burn brightly when together. A relationship develops, perhaps not like one we've known before in our young life, but then a bit like every relationship we have experienced. There is friendliness, sharing, laughter, understanding, and perhaps, a quiet peacefulness when together. But what of it? Much of our social relationships are influenced and dictated not by the individuals, but by societal norms and values which seek to define and place persons into fairly rigid categories. And society, as a component of the everyday world is rigid in conforming to the established norms. Unlike the words of poets, the mystics, and philosophers, living a love story can be difficult and confusing. We, in love, suffer strongly and frequently. In adult life, is this all of love-- it is so complicated and often painful, we think.

Poets and philosophers alike have spent many words describing the almost indescribable. They write words of love, friendship, affection, brotherhood; the writer Dante said of love, "[there was] the love that moves the sun and all the stars." It is this love, all encompassing that concerns Peter Kreeft in his book, The God who Loves You. He writes in a Christian perspective of love experiences. "Everything is a gift from God," writes Kreeft. This is, he says, incredibly simple, yet our human tendency towards complexity makes it look murky and confusing. The writer, Chesterton, said "life is always confusing for one without clear principles." Yet here is, says Kreeft, simplicity itself, shining brightly if we will only look. God is Love. What he wills for me, comes from goodness, for my own good. This, "is not poetic fancy, but sober, logical fact."

We may then view love in the light of goodness. What comes in a life may be a sign, an indication pointing the way; it means something. Our suffering in love means something, in this view. Christian thought believes that like the Christ upon his cross, our suffering is for all, for the common good--ours and others. Love then, points the way back to the divine giver. The parables of the Christ do not tell us to love humanity in the abstract. We are called instead to love our neighbor as ourself. We are not called to like our neighbor, but to love as ourself. It is to individuals that this love is directed. God's love then is personal, like a mother or a father love; it is unique because it becomes us, and giving it then, becomes its expression and cause. Love means then to share the light of the world, one person at a time with our family and friends.

Here is the part which becomes difficult for us: When we share with our neighbor, love, as ourself, we sometimes confuse the love God gives with our physical, corporal self. It's as if, in love, we have given our self literally, and not spiritually; thus in ego, a sense of possession arises. You are mine and I am yours. Perhaps even ownership, a relation which gives no heed to free will, replacing loving freely.

God is a lover. God is not a businessman or a manager taking account of all his stock. Martin Luther wrote in his treatise, The Liberty of a Christian, that what God wants is not possession nor a technical performance in life, but something simple and profound. God wants our hearts. He gives and we receive through the Spirit. A heart may not be demanded or bought; it may not be contained or caged. It is freely given, and freely received. Luther was right. This is a simple truth which liberates us from the darkness and confusion of love. In love we are free.

As adults we may first try many ways to obtain and capture a heart. Some may work for a time, but ultimately the heart of love is free and flies where it wills. It cannot be possessed. This is frightening to one who feels great desire or need for that heart. Yet thinking carefully, one may discover its source is not the person who first made its presence felt, the Beloved, but the One who gave it first in the Spirit of Love. The one who loves all, who loves freely.

The chains of possession must not be; yet at times ignorance or wickedness overcomes, and possession is confused for love. It is not. Love is free and must be. This recognition of freely given love is a love that honors, respects and lasts at least as long as the One who formed us in it. Thus as adults mature, many come to the knowledge that romantic love "reveals the beloved, and is meant to point us towards union, Oneness with God."

No Simple Subject is Evil...

"The fall of the first human being from... wisdom to folly was neither wise nor foolish..."  On Free Choice of the Will by Augustine of Hippo

While it touches all of us at one time or another, evil is no simple subject. Most of us have many questions and much confusion when confronted with an evil face, sometimes our very own face. Today many are squeamish about the subject itself.
In the Judeo-Christian tradition, evil necessarily encompasses the notion of wrong doers and sin, failings we all are many times confronted with. Writing perhaps his most influential thoughts for the posterity of the Western mind, philosopher and theologian Augustine of Hippo writes in his treatise On Free Choice of the Will, that there are many forms of evil both great and small.
There is no single evil that can be pointed to in the world of men.

"Moral truths are no different. Belief is required for understanding. If you are brought up among people who think morality is just a matter of opinion, it is highly improbable that you will ever be able to see that morals teach us a lot of true and interesting things about the intelligible world..." Your prior beliefs, and  prejudices will prevent your understanding. Without belief you then will not understand...
All that Augustine writes may be viewed as an effort to awaken the reader to a fresh view, previously unexamined... In his view, 'moral uprightness consists in submission to the eternal and immutable truths which are not of our own, individual making. Freedom moreover consists of submission to Truth.' Freedom is to cleave to truth, the essence of freedom. How so? Augustine writes that it is only truth and goodness which cannot be taken from the soul against its will... 

Everything that exists, he posits, has a degree of order, measure or value. In other words, in keeping with ancient Greek thought, every nature has a form.
A form that may be characterized as to its extent, measure and motivations in nature. For example it is the nature of a plow to plow land, so the more evenly and cleanly it plows, the better a plow it is. A good plow plows well. "
So the more form a nature has, the more goodness it possesses. Also true is that the more form a nature possesses, the more being it has." Evil, as Augustine of Hippo understood it, is a simple, complete deficiency.
Evil is a void or lack of form, and yet every nature in this view comes from the Creator, G-d. This One is the source of all being and goodness. Therein lies the paradox and darkness of evil. In the act of condemning something or some one, we acknowledge this fact.

Thus for human beings the only ultimately satisfying thing, as created beings with form, is to live up to their nature. "When the will turns away from the higher goods to the lower goods, it frustrates the rule of nature, reversing a natural order and subjecting itself to the un-natural rule of a master.
The being is thus enslaved and without genuine freedom because the only genuine freedom is submission to truth. Truth here is likened to an apple falling from a tree. It has no choice but to fall downward; it has no option to frustrate the rule of gravity.

On the contrary the human will is free, having a choice about when to obey the natural rule. And try it does for good and for ill. Airplanes may fly upward, but in thunderstorms they often crash. This sadly does not prevent men from trying to fly them at that time anyway with deadly consequences for themselves and their passengers.
"Human beings can voluntarily wreck their lives by running afoul of the rules that govern their nature. Yet a soul with that kind of will is free, free to choose what is either hopeless struggle against itself, or what is ultimate freedom to become what one most truly is.

The Religion of Ahimsa

"Man is higher than the brute." MK Gandhi

Writing about Ahimsa, Gandhi briefly describes it as, "the world is full of violence, himsa, and nature does appear to be red in tooth and claw."
 He writes of a belief that man is more than a brute and potentially superior to nature. "If man has a divine mission to fulfill, a mission that becomes him, it is that of non-violence, ahimsa.

"The religion of non-violence is not merely meant for saints. It is meant for the common people as well... the dignity of man requires obedience to such a higher law to strengthen the spirit."
Gandhi observes that man as animal is violent, but mens' spirits are not. "The moment he awakes to the spirit within, he cannot remain violent. He either progresses to ahimsa or rushes then to his doom.

That is why the prophet and the avatars taught the lesson of truth, harmony, brotherhood and justice, etc., all attributes of ahimsa." This Gandhi writes in his essay, The Religion of Ahimsa, contained in the book, The Way to God.

What Do You Live For?

"What if what we long hoped for does not come? The willingness to live for a better day."

What am I living for? Living for the joy of acquisition and power is self serving; living for the good of others is perhaps more in the Way. Yet we can seem to think ourselves to be living in the Way and yet we are not. There are those who convince themselves they are right; their ego has the answer, it is good--for me.
Do you live for freedom? In one sense freedom is the absence of restraint. There is nothing to hinder me to act as I choose. Suppose, however, that you live in a universe that for every choice I might make, the world has already determined the response, responses for which I have no control. I may remain physically free, no one has tied me down or locked me up, but I seem to lack freedom in a more durable and possible sense. While I am free to act as I choose, my choices are not free.

There is another type of freedom says the Christian philosopher and theologian, Augustine of Hippo. In the book, On Free Choice of the Will, translated by Thomas Williams, Augustine writes, "I have freedom to choose in a way that is not determined by any thing outside my control, what Augustine called metaphysical freedom. The view that human beings have metaphysical freedom is also known as Libertarianism."
Augustine is one of the great defenders of Libertarianism. He says that human beings are endowed with a power called the will. A person can direct his will to go in seemingly limitless directions. His own freedom of direction, then, can be thought of as free choice.

A person may choose for himself money, power, influence, sex, excesses of all types; these choices so mentioned have all been external choices, made by factors outside the person. If so, then a person could not be entirely responsible for them.
But it is not external factors that determine our choices. Rather it is internal states: beliefs, desires, hopes and fears. Since it is the desire, the will of a person and the character which determines one's choices, freedom therefore is not threatened.

Yet a Libertarian like Augustine would not be swayed by this. He says that in fact, human beings are rational thinking, and free choice makes them therefore responsible. Because persons have metaphysical freedom in this view, they are capable of making a real difference in the world. We may write our own "scripts." We may be truly in the image of God, the Creator, bringing something into the world that previously did not exist before us.

The Suns of Poetry

For some, poetry aims highly at several things. As an art form it uses language in new and creative ways to express ideas and emotions; it creates its own vocabulary for expression of some of our deepest thoughts and feelings. The poet is, in the words of Indian teacher and mystic, Sri Aurobindo, the result of the harmonizing of
"five perennial powers: truth, beauty, joy, life and spirit." The one he terms, the "poet-seer" is someone who "sees differently, who thinks in another way... the poet shows us truth within its power of beauty, in its symbol or image, reveals it to us..."

Poets seek to illumine, to amplify or lift up in words, images and symbols in the way the visual artist does with his drawings or designs. For Aurobindo the term life carries further meaning than its base, scientific sense. In its use, Aurobindo means to signify "the life of feelings and passions. The inner life, which is infinite." Poets as seers and sages are gifted with the ability to perceive and elucidate upon those facets of living which many feel but can derive no words for meaning. The poet is much loved for the giving of words to otherwise unexpressed longings of ones' heart. Poetry then is the heart of the heart. Sri Aurobindo makes this clear when he writes about matters of truth, beauty and joy:

 Because Thou Art

Because Thou art All-beauty and All-bliss,

My soul blind and enamored yearns for Thee; 

It bears Thy mystic touch in all that is 

And thrills with the burden of that ecstasy. 

Behind all eyes I meet Thy secret gaze 

And in each voice I hear Thy magic tune: 

Thy sweetness haunts my heart through Nature's ways;

 Nowhere it beats now from Thy snare immune. 

It loves Thy body in all living things; 

Thy joy is there in every leaf and stone: 

The moments bring Thee on their fiery wings; 

Sight's endless artistry is Thou alone
Time voyages with Thee upon its prow
And all the future's passionate hope is Thou.

--Sri Aurobindo

The complete Works of Sri Aurobindo 


 

Working to See More Clearly

"Take up the way of meeting others on equal ground." --Buddhist precept as discussed by Diane Rizzetto in her book, Waking Up to What You Do.

In her book, Waking Up to What You Do, Abbess Diane Rizzetto writes on the precept of meeting others on equal ground. She quotes the writer Dag Hammarskjold, Markings: 

"To be humble is not to make comparisons. Secure in

its reality, the self is neither better nor worse, bigger nor smaller, 

than any thing else in the universe. It is nothing; at the same time, 

one with the universe." 

What are the obvious and not so obvious ways that we regard ourselves in light of others? Do we gain self-worth in measuring ourselves against others? Do we consider our own thoughts, our own way? Do we praise ourselves at the expense of others? Or while not praising ourselves, abuse others?

What keeps us from meeting others, from meeting the stranger on equal ground? What about competition--are there winners and losers in the world? How does anger, insecurity, fear, shame and blame block the way of meeting others on equal ground? 

Why must we meet equally? Despite our sometimes fearful and anxious experiences of meeting others with pounding heart and cold hand, adrenaline flowing making us feel like ice, meeting others on equal ground is important.

Even so, there are many ways we either subtly or overtly avoid our feelings and perceptions of unease with ourselves; we measure, we criticize, blame and shame our way through life. Putting others down will pull us up, it seems--maybe. By learning more about the reality of inter-being we come to find that this isn't so.

 Making you dirty, makes me dirty; disrespect to you is disrespect to myself. I am the doing, the making of it all, the dream of self. Considering this perception, we find it isn't limited to speech. Behavior is also a means of competition and measuring ourselves to others.

We may ignore, exclude or avoid others in our activities with the intention to demonstrate a perception of superiority. Sometimes we even think we are more sophisticated, more enlightened than the others. 

In history we learn that the Buddha was enlightened in a simple way, under a tree, no posh hotel or vacation spot for him. The Christ was hung ultimately on a cross, no limousine or finely dressed mourners at his death. 

Gandhi was shot to death, there were no bowing supplicants before him; rather, it was the end of a gun. So too for Martin Luther King. 

Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta had no exemplary education beyond courage and will. These figures are burned into our consciousness; they were both humble and great, simple and wise.

Do not admire them; be more like them. Diane Rizzetto writes, "When we speak or act in these [other] ways, clarity, discovery and true dialog [understanding] are lost. 

Even if we don't consciously place ourselves above others...if we're in the game of competition by watching our reactions when we make a mistake... Do we blame... find excuses... jump in defense?"   
Do we say what it is; that is, do we say, "I forgot, I lost it, I didn't understand?" In being humble, speaking truthfully, we are neither better nor worse.

However, when our focus is to maintain ourselves in a perception of better than others, above them, then we close ourselves, we cut ourselves off; separation from the world and others occurs. We then choose to live in division. 

There is now just the dream, that dream of self. Working to see more clearly, vispayana, the ways we judge others, and the ways we place so much of our energy in covering up ourselves due to fear, anxiety, shame-- the same energy is always available to help us to see more clearly and compassionately our own, true selves. Neither better nor worse than others. 

"Whether we place ourselves above or below others, we are substituting an idea about who we are, or who others are, or should be for the simple truth that as human beings we are good at some things and not so good at other things. We fail and succeed; we know and we don't know; we accomplish some useful things in our day, and we mess up some other things. This is what it means to be human..." to be humble, to be neither better nor worse, to be oneself." paraphrased

"Take your practiced powers and stretch them out until they span the chasm between contradictions... for the god wants to know himself in you."
-- Poet Maria Rilke

Bassui: An Arrow Flies Straight to Hell

"The mind is host, the body is guest."

Zen master and historical figure, Bassui was born in Japan in 1327. Rejected by his mother at birth, Bassui is recorded to have been raised by a family servant. At age 29 he became a monk, but he did not shave his head or wear robes; he did not recite Sutras, like other monks. His practice was the most simple practice. It can be called the practice of no practice. This was to be Bassui's Way throughout his life.

As a Zen master, Bassui was often questioned; often he gave reply. In one instance he was asked: "The spirit is this skin, this skin is the one spirit. Is this correct?"

Bassui replied affirmatively to the question.

"If so,' continued the questioner, 'who will become buddha after the body's dispersed to the four winds? Who will sink into the sea? What will be the reason for keeping the precept that prevents crime?"

To this Bassui replied, "If you continue holding this view, in which you deny cause and effect [karma], like an arrow, you will fly straight to hell. Do you have dreams?

Questioner: Yes.

Bassui: What do you usually see in your dreams?

Questioner: It's not always fixed. I usually see things that occur in my mind and through my body.

Bassui: The rising and sinking after death are also like that. All thoughts that come are by way of the four elements that comprise the physical body. Dreams in the night follow suit and appear in accordance to the good or bad thoughts of the day... An ancient said, 'You receive a body according to Karma, and your body in turn produces Karma. You should realize the continuity of the body in this life and in the next... If you truly understand this, then you cannot doubt the statement that the one spirit in this skin is the one spirit in that skin.

Questioner: Now I realize that the body and the mind are not separate. This being the case, the significance of 'seeing into one's Buddha nature' is relegated to the leaves and branches [of a tree]. If you simply stop doing bad deeds concerning your physical body, practice various good deeds, practice the precepts, and eliminate evil thoughts, will you then become a Buddha?

Bassui:
All thoughts are born of deluded ideas feelings [disordered thinking]. If you do not see penetratingly into your own nature, though you try to eliminate evil thoughts, you will be like the one who tries to stop dreaming without waking up. All evil deeds are rooted in deluded thoughts. If you cut out the roots, how can the leaves grow?... If he were a man who penetrated his own nature, how could he even think of committing a sin in which he breaks precepts?

How May I Help?

Sometimes we want to help others. When we give assistance to others it comes in different ways. It may be quiet, relying upon the attentiveness of the other, or it may be directly spoken. Sometimes they appreciate our assistance; sometimes others just want to struggle on their own without assistance. The help of others isn't always wanted.
How then may we help? Zen teacher Joko Beck has written about compassion, "[so compassion ] if we're truly listening with compassion to another person, we may not feel much of anything; we simply listen and act appropriately... compassion is not itself an emotion."

 And there is a Zen story to illustrate another way of help to others:

A Zen master enters the prayer hall with a bowl, ready for the meal being served; he comes much too early. So the cook stops him in the kitchen and says they have not rung the bell yet. The Zen master returns to his room and waits. Meanwhile the cook can't resist! He approaches the abbot, tells him of the master's folly, with glee. The abbot listens, then shrugs replying that the master can become befuddled sometimes!
Soon the Zen master returns to the hall to eat. He hears of the abbot's remarks and is displeased.  Later he speaks to the abbot in private. He inquires of  him if he be disapproving.  At that, the abbot leans forward to the Zen master and whispers into his ear. Immediately the Zen master is relieved of his concern.
Later the Zen master gives a dharma talk. It is thought very good. The abbot profusely compliments the Zen master afterward.


Yet for those listening, the question remained: what was whispered into the Zen master's ear by the abbot? Or from another perspective: what was the role of the abbot in the situation? Did he help the Zen master?