Sadhana, the realization of life

"There is a bond of unity between our two eyes which makes them act in unison."  Sadhana; the Realization of Life by Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore, a Bengali poet, mystic and writer known for his elegant, lyrical writing style; he also is known for his Nobel Prize win for literature in 1913. Written in his philosophical prose style, Tagore's  book, Sadhana, the Realization of Life, addresses many aspects of the Self and the world. He writes for example, that opposites do not bring confusion; in reality they bring harmony. Rhythm can never be born of disharmony, or of  "the haphazard struggle of combat."

This principle is the chief mystery of all unities. Unity in Tagore's mind could be viewed as: the one which appears as the many. And while seeming to be opposite, it is the truth, a paradox of sorts. He writes of a great poem, as a compilation of most pleasing sounds, yet if one stops to hear the import of those sounds, something more emerges; 'the inner connects to the outer [meaning].'

In the following poem below Tagore writes a bit of this and other ideas further discussed in prose style in his book, Sadhana. The poem is 'a thing of beauty which transcends grammar, laws' and becomes unto itself.

I

By Rabindranath Tagore

I wonder if I know him
In whose speech is my voice,
In whose movement is my being,
Whose skill is in my lines,
Whose melody is in my songs
In joy and sorrow.
I thought he was chained within me,
Contained by tears and laughter,
Work and play.
I thought he was my very self
Coming to an end with my death.
Why then in a flood of joy do I feel him
In the sight and touch of my beloved?
This 'I' beyond self I found
On the shores of the shining sea.
Therefore I know
This 'I' is not imprisoned within my bounds.
Losing myself, I find him
Beyond the borders of time and space.
Through the Ages
I come to know his Shining Self
In the 'If ' of the seeker,
In the voice of the poet.
From the dark clouds pour the rains.
I sit and think:
Bearing so many forms, so many names,
I come down, crossing the threshold
Of countless births and deaths.
The Supreme undivided, complete in himself,
Embracing past and present,
Dwells in Man.
Within Him I shall find myself -
The 'I' that reaches everywhere.

Whirling Dervishes

"All loves are a bridge to Divine love. Yet, those who have not had a taste of it do not know!"  -- by Jalaleddin Rumi, Sufi mystic and poet

Islamic Sufism and Dervishes go together. There have been Semazen or Dervishes for the past 700 years; as an element of Sufiism, a mystical practice within Islam, the Sufi way of living is focused on love, tolerance, worship of God, community development, and personal development through self-discipline and responsibility. A Sufi's way of life is to love, to serve people, to abandon the ego as a false self, and all illusion, so that one might reach mature wholeness or holiness, and attain Allah, the True One. The Sufi doctrine of Rumi: Illustrated Edition by William Chittick delves into Sufi spirituality deeply.

The practice of the Whirling Dervishes is one branch of Sufi practice within Islam. Sufis value universal love and service to all of Creation. The Order of the Whirling Dervishes has been in existence since at least the 13th century; when the great Rumi, inspired by Turkish tradition, fell under influence by the Sufi movement, it was a chance meeting with a Dervish that converted Rumi's thoughts to those of a mystic and an ascetic.

The thought that the earth is round, the seasons rotate, the stars travel the sky, the human body circulates blood, the great wheel of the earth turns, thus there is no created being which does not revolve in some fashion. While this may all be quite natural and without effort, humankind possesses an intelligence which permits these observations, distinguishing him from other creatures.

By twirling, rather than move into an estatic state as some might suppose, the Dervishes seek to revolve in harmony, with all things in nature. So in fact, he is engaging in a harmonizing action by whirling, witnessing the existence and magnificence of the Creator. So says the Qur'an: "Whatever is in the skies, or on earth invokes God." (64:1)

While the whirling is perhaps the most dramatic aspect of their practice, the Sufi seeks unity with three principal parts of human nature: the mind, the heart and the body. Sufis seek connection with the mind through intellectual activity such as gaining in knowledge or thought-meditation; they seek connection through the heart with activities such as poetry, musical expression of feelings; the body is sought in Sufi expression by whirling, by physical engagement with life activities.

Uniquely the Sufi is inspired in all these ways through the Sema, or whirling ceremony. The Dervishes engage in this practice as representation of the human spiritual journey. They grow by turning towards the truth of all things, transcending the ego, then growing through love; this spiritual journey is completed with a sense of holiness, an ability to love and serve all equally.

Sufism mostly concentrates on the interior world of human life, addressing the meaning and effect of specific practices on man's spirit and heart which while abstract, is not contradictory to any Islamic teaching based on the Qur'an or Sunna.

Confucius, the Meaning of Ren and Yi

"If what you don't want for yourself, you shouldn't to do others, then you would like others to do for you what you would indeed like for yourself." --Confucius (also K'ung Fuzi), ancient Chinese philosopher

While "the gentleman understands Yi, the small/mean man understands Li," wrote Confucius, Analects IV:16.
Here in the United States many of us grow up with the occasional, "Confucius said..." and sometimes responding with laughter. But what did Confucius really say? Why does it matter at all?
In his book, The Ways of Confucianism by David S. Nivens, Philosopher and Sinologist, writes that Confucius remains important now as then, forming a sort of moral compass with principles to guide one in positive and fruitful pathways.
The practice of Confucianism is heavily invested in what is virtue, being Ren and doing Yi. In other words, one is mostly to be concerned with Xiao, honor, along with Ren love, charity and Yi, right conduct.

Nivens takes these base ideas and draws them out over the milenia of Chinese practice. He investigates virtue in the form of  De, the power or charisma of a king or ruler who practices without force or violence. Insisting this is key to understanding the philosophy of Confucius he compares the practice of De with an example, "Humans typically feel gratitude for gifts. However in some societies, this feeling becomes magnified so that my gratitude to you comes to seem like force... De was originally this "force" kings acquired through their willingness to make sacrifices to the ancestors and to the spirits..."
However, here it 's important to be cognizant of the difference between gifts given freely and those given to obtain a measure of force. True De is in contact with humility, generosity and virtue, generally.

To do good in Confucius' view, one must be in possession of this virtue, free of simple, unrestrained self-interest. In contrast, Chinese philosopher, Mozi in an attitude of "consequentialism," takes the tack of an extreme voluntarist, or one who willingly 'scratches your back, so you will scratch my own.' Mozi then is the quintessential anti-Confucianist.
Confucius argues that virtue is every one's business and everyone is to strive within this virtue. Thus Confucius also falls into the business of enforcing the bolstering of, what the West calls, the 'weakness of the will.' "So the problem of weakness of the will enters into Chinese moral philosophy in general," writes Nivens.

 Nivens, a scholar in his own right, posits some interpretations of the ancient Chinese texts rather than mere erudition of them.  Within his book, he examines Neo-Confucianism through the study of Wang Yang Ming, another influential, early Chinese Buddhist-influenced  philosopher. "For Wang, self-cultivation is a matter of escaping the obscuration [enigma] of selfish desires, and attending  instead to the voice of one's true self.
Because one's true self is in identification with the universe... self cultivation results in the unity of all things [harmony]." So in Wang's Neo-Confucianist view, harmony with the universe, openness in mind and heart to the nature of things, the persistence of spontaneity and joy, even while in mourning, is expressive of the action of one's true, authentic self.

No Two Buddhas For Parents

"Religious practice is about atonement." --Nothing Special by Charlotte Joko Beck

Charlotte Joko Beck writes in her book, Nothing Special, Living Zen, "I listen to many people talk about their lives, I am struck that the first layer we encounter in sitting practice is our feeling of being a victim--our feeling that we have been sacrificed to others' greed, anger, and ignorance, to their lack of knowledge of who they are. '

"Often this victimization comes from our parents. Nobody has two Buddhas for parents. Instead of Buddhas, we have parents for parents: flawed, confused, angry, self-centered--like all of us..." If, in practice, we grow more in awareness of having been sacrificed, we become angry, upset, confused. We feel hurt that we have been used, mistreated, like this by our loved ones...

Firstly to simply become aware of the feeling, the sensations in our body arising in this instance; secondly, we can grow into working with those feelings that have come to the forefront of our awareness, our anger, desire to get even, our feeling of hurting those who have hurt us in like fashion... We can fight back, but there are other avenues we may choose instead, reflecting back a growing awareness of victimization.

Practicing with this perception, we may experience powerful desires, anger, retribution, confusion, withdrawal or coldness. If we continue to ask, "what is this?" something, however painful it first seems, begins to arise into our consciousness. "We begin to see not only how we have been sacrificed, but also how we have sacrificed others. This can be even more painful than our first realization."

It may occur to us that what we have been doing to others, sacrifice, was done to us--especially when we act upon our angry thoughts and try to get even. We then sacrifice others. "As the Bible says, the evil is visited upon generation after generation."

When regrets and sorrows become great, they're a heavy burden to carry, a realization that what we have done, is what others have done before us, comes a desire to lighten the load, for salvation may arise within us. If we are "committed to healing, we want to atone..." To atone means to be at one, to be in harmony, to make amends. Unable to wipe out the past--we've already committed the deed, we must look to this present moment, to this time now.

In atonement, we embark upon a lifelong process, as did the central character of the recent film of the same name, Atonement. Out of our self centered spinning, we learn to focus on the now, others around us, reality as it is. We, as humans, will not ever hope to entirely stop sacrificing others or ourselves; we are not too perfect to realize that. But what we do hope to realize is that we can, and do grow in maturity and recognition of those places and situations which inspire our impulses. Such so that it becomes much more important that we recognize not what has been done to us, but what we do to others. There is, as theologian Martin Buber wrote, "the I-thou relationship."

"Someone must be the first to break the chain in relationships with our friends and intimates."

What does "this have to do with enlightenment and oneness?"
An enlightened person will be the one willing to be the sacrifice, to break the chain. The willingness to become the sacrifice is basic. Practicing through our lives, growing in awareness, in maturity, we get a free choice, or free will, about what we're going to do.

Even if it's about people with whom we are no longer in co-union (communion). Anger arises, a sinking feeling in the stomach, perhaps. Do they, or we for that matter, need a sacrifice?

Is there some lightness drawing the sense of action forward? What are our intentions? Examine intention carefully, and do not absolutely avoid people who have brought up this anger in you. Are you measuring yourself? Is there a fantasy playing in your mind the moment the person comes into view?

What is necessary in the situation?

Be the best you can be in that moment. Focus upon the necessary and do that. You have that ability to see and use for your own benefit and that of others.

Sadhana, the Realization of Beauty

"A thing is only completely our own when it is a thing of joy." Sadhana by R. Tagore

Investigating further into the work of Rabindranath Tagore, he writes in his book, Sadhana several essays on different topics, combined together to create the whole of harmony as he sees it. The realization of beauty, of beauty-harmony, as he describes, is in terms of the realization of what is real.
"The greater part of this world is to us as if it were nothing... but we cannot allow it to remain so... Things in which we do not take joy are either a burden upon our minds to be got rid of at any cost, or they are useful and therefore in temporary and partial relation to us, becoming burdensome when their utility is lost. Or they are are like wandering vagabonds, loitering for a moment on the outskirts of our recognition and then passing on."
But, writes Tagore, "the entire world is given to us," and our final meaning and powers are taken from a patrimony, if you will."
 What is the function of beauty in the process of realization of the self into this world? It is this question which the author takes on here. Tagore muses that if beauty is present to separate light and shadow, or ugliness and other, then "we would have to admit that this sense of beauty creates a dissension in our universe, and sets up a wall of hindrance."

While disagreeing with this understanding of beauty, Tagore writes that the comprehending of beauty is  unexplored territory, as he sees it. Philosophers have come up with discourse as to its nature, and science writes of issues affecting beauty, but its reality remains wide open for exploration.
Truth, he writes, is everywhere. And "beauty is omnipresent." Beauty often comes to us as a smack, awakening consciousness suddenly and definitely. It then acquires its urgency, "by the object of the contrast." It first rends us with its discords. "But as our acquaintance ripens, the apparent discords are resolved into modulations of rhythm."

At first "we detach beauty from its surroundings, we hold it apart from the rest," but in the end we recognize its harmony with the rest. Appealing finally to our hearts, beauty enters into conscious relationship with us; it becomes us and becomes our joy. Our hearts skip a beat as we apprehend that which is in the world, beautiful, joyful, our very own. Beauty, says Tagore, does not exist without Truth. All beauty is some form of Truth.

"Last night I stood alone in the silence which pervaded the darkness, I stood alone and heard the voice of the singer of eternal melodies. When I went to sleep, I closed my eyes with this last thought in my mind, that even when I remain unconscious, in slumber, the dance of life will still go on in the hushed arena of my sleeping body, keeping step with the stars. The heart will throb, the blood will leap in the veins and the millions of living atoms in my body will vibrate in tune with the note of the harp-string that thrills at the touch of the master."

-- Rabindranath Tagore

Long Term Commitments Can Be Dangerous

"Our faith must be alive; it cannot just be a set of rigid beliefs and notions."
--Thich Nhat Hanh

Hanh writes, "In the beginning we might have embarked upon the path of Buddhism thanks to a belief in re-incarnation." However, he continues by noting that as the world in its impermanence moves, so must we. Continuing our practice and touching reality as it is, we may find that our beliefs change. Perhaps they are more defined, more refined; perhaps the change is more radical.

Yet we need not fear change because as we find our way through practice, through experience with the reality of the world flowing ourselves to that acceptance, realizing the Amida Buddha more and more deeply, we find a confidence and security that we may have not known before.

Our ideas are more solid, reflecting our core senses. When we form our ideas and beliefs in response to our own experience, more so than the experiences of others, we may for the first time, perhaps, find our voice, our way, our joy. In this state, no one can easily remove our belief from us.

"Making a long term commitment [can be] dangerous." If years and time pass without our continued practice, a continued commitment to living the results of our experiences, one day we may come to discover that we cannot believe as we once did. A great revelation, an epiphany may come over us informing us that our usual beliefs, our usual way is no way. We are plunged into fear, panic, darkness.

"Faith must be alive; it cannot just be a set of rigid beliefs and notions." Open to change, to experience, we open ourselves to the fruit of all--peace, joy, a spacious freedom and love. Sometimes we may think that "faith" is only thinking, only notions. Yet it is more. In our prayers, our meditation, we must put our whole self into action; we must live those actions. Merely thinking, sitting meditation is not enough.

Our actions may be modeled after those of the Buddha, a guiding example. Deeply thinking, deeply seeing the world as it is, the goodness of change will lead to us to our share in creating a more harmonious, peaceful world.

True Faith is Alive

"Our faith must be alive; it cannot just be a set of rigid beliefs and notions."
--Thich Nhat Hanh

Hanh writes, "In the beginning we might have embarked upon the path of Buddhism thanks to a belief in re-incarnation." However, he continues by noting that as the world in its impermanence moves, so must we. Continuing our practice and touching reality as it is, we may find that our beliefs change. Perhaps they are more defined, more refined; perhaps the change is more radical.

Yet we need not fear change because as we find our way through practice, through experience with the reality of the world flowing ourselves to that acceptance, realizing the Amida Buddha more and more deeply, we find a confidence and security that we may have not known before.

Our ideas are more solid, reflecting our core senses. When we form our ideas and beliefs in response to our own experience, more so than the experiences of others, we may for the first time, perhaps, find our voice, our way, our joy. In this state, no one can easily remove our belief from us.

"Making a long term commitment [can be] dangerous." If years and time pass without our continued practice, a continued commitment to living the results of our experiences, one day we may come to discover that we cannot believe as we once did. A great revelation, an epiphany may come over us informing us that our usual beliefs, our usual way is no way. We are plunged into fear, panic, darkness.

"Faith must be alive; it cannot just be a set of rigid beliefs and notions." Open to change, to experience, we open ourselves to the fruit of all--peace, joy, a spacious freedom and love. Sometimes we may think that "faith" is only thinking, only notions. Yet it is more. In our prayers, our meditation, we must put our whole self into action; we must live those actions. Merely thinking, sitting meditation is not enough.

Our actions may be modelled after those of the Buddha, a guiding example. Deeply thinking, deeply seeing the world as it is, the goodness of change will lead to us to our share in creating a more harmonious, peaceful world.