Gravity Always Prevails, Common Sense

"We do not [like to] live according to common sense. We don't like the critical voice; we don't like to come down." --Nothing Special: Living Zen   by Charlotte Joko Beck

We like compliments; we like flattery. They make us 'feel special.' "What 's the difference between the sound of the [cooing] dove and the sound of a critical voice?" asks Joko Beck in her book, Nothing special: Living Zen. It seems many don't like the 'criticism.' We, according to Beck,"don't just hear the voice; we attach an opinion to what we hear." An opinion is not the same as a fact. Facts are easily verifiable. The sun for example, gives light; it rises and sets on a cycle. Our opinions may be formed variously, changed and reformed. They are not facts.

For many 'staying up,' as Beck calls it, is a quest to always float, like a ballet dancer suspended in air. But gravity, the fact of the matter, prevails and we return to the ground. Common sense is not something most of us admittedly indulge in. Our preferences trend more to the fictitious, the imaginary, the wishful. And we all have this same inclination. Some say that hope springs eternal. "
 Yet like it or not, life consists of much unpleasant input. Seldom does life gives us just what we want..."  We spend our time trying, like a juggler, to keep all the balls up in the air, to avoid a crash.

Fact may be that in most, if not all lives, illness and injury are a component of daily living. Injuries may be both mental and physical; we can't avoid disappointment, loss or grief. Seeking to 'take out some insurance' against unpleasant events, we often think the best course is to avoid any 'contact with painful reality.' Our minds spinning, racing busily ahead, we persist in trying to avoid all pain. We plan, strategize, evade, stonewall, avoid, fear, resent; we look for the best way, we think to avoid all pain.
Doing what we can to feel safe and not scary, we just want to be undisturbed. The ultimate action of the mind is to transform facts, what is neutral, and real into another state, so as to think that what disturbs, is unpleasant, challenges us, cannot get near us--not ever.

"We want to stay up in our cloud of thought about our enterprises, our schemes for self-improvement." And while self-improvement such as improving our health, losing weight, learning a new language and the like can be beneficial, the 'wheels go off the wagon,' if you will, when we add on to the improvement effort a notion or desire to protect ourselves from the ups and downs of life. Some, for example, believe that eating certain foods or engaging in rituals or other practices will keep them from diseases such as cancer, or they'll  live longer.
We try to insulate ourselves in these instances from the base unpleasantness of life. It just has to be some body's fault! 

The struggle between the 'sound of the cooing dove' and the rasp of reality continues to cause suffering; for as long as one attempts to avoid or imagine, life is not simply as it is. Our opinions continue to enforce our behaviors, behaviors may become demands. Demands unmet may become painful resentment, rather than sense-perceptions from our faculties. Carefully sitting with them, life as it is, allows us to observe our thoughts, to become aware of our physical senses, to listen to our body.
Gaining honesty about our opinions, our self, those around us brings clarity to the day. When we realize that there is 'nowhere to get to,' that we are already arrived in the right place,  just this moment, our suffering ceases. Acceptance now takes its place.

Abandoning the Most Basic Fears

"Some, especially those in spiritual communities, may imagine that the jewel of life never has conflict, argument, or upset--and of how little we know or appreciate it..."
-- Nothing Special, Living Zen by Charlotte Joko Beck

I have a dream," said Martin Luther King;
even if you are a minority of one, the truth is the truth; we must become the change we wish to see in the world,"
said Mahatma Gandhi;
blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God,"said Saint Matthew 5:9;
"let one see one's own acts, done and undone,"
states the Dhammapada, verse 50.

Becoming the "tomato fighters," as Charlotte Joko Beck calls them in her book, Nothing Special Living Zen, is as important as death itself. How so?
It is the fear of death itself, and of impermanence in general, that is the most basic of all our fears; it is, she writes, the basis of all our fear-based responses. When in fear, we are not free. We cannot respond in the "here-and-now" because fear most often is fueled by the past about something which has not yet occurred, and may not ever.

Oh, what a place to be--neither past nor present; caught in the dream of self, a self which is not present in this moment, living this life. Rather it is fearing, fearful of what has yet to come, fueled by memory, of past; a past which may include argument, competitiveness, conflict, pain and of course, anger. Thinking that life is necessarily free of such experiences is "a great mistake, because if we don't understand how conflict is generated, we can wreck our lives, and the lives of others. First, we need to see that we are all afraid... [there is] the effort to protect our self-image, our ego. Out of that need... comes anger. Out of anger comes conflict," writes Beck.

Yet anger and conflict are part of human existence. However they need not destroy our relations with others. To suppose that a good community, or to imagine that a "good life has no heated arguments, no disagreements; that's silly." Like neighbors she knew as a child, Beck writes that they competed, argued loudly over the produce of their summer gardens. Each proclaimed his tomatoes to be the best. And they argued some more. Yet these neighbors were friends. After the competition was over, there was no bitterness. Their example of a positive exchange, was in the end, when their loud bickering was done, that they were still friends; they still exchanged their ideas and opinions without rancor.

If we find that argument with persons close to us, connected in one way or another, leaves us bitter, angry or sad, a closer view may be in order. Arguing, clearing the air, resolving and respecting differences can be positive to practice. Suzuki wrote that he had never personally experienced "anger, pure as the wind." Perhaps because it is so frequently tinged with fears and disappointments.
Beck writes about our efforts to be honest, "Honesty is the absolute basis of our practice. But what does that mean?... Often our efforts to be honest don't come from real honesty... As long as we have any intention to be right, to show or "teach" the other person something, we should be wary. So long as our words have the slightest ego attachment, they are dishonest."

True words come from deep looking, clear seeing, and understanding. Understanding what is our anger, our fear; knowing that we must sometimes wait. Can you wait, patiently, observing all of yourself and the world around you? Can you wait attentively until the answer presents itself? Will you force an answer with false words or actions?

Waiting until the right words or actions arise in the present moment is not easy, but it is very important if we want to be peacemakers with ourselves, and others. Then we may speak with honest words, words that do not cut, that do no harm; speaking words that reflect who we are, honestly, in the clearest, best voice we have-- our own.

This article appeared here previously September 24, 2009

So, Pay Attention: Attention means Attention!

"There's an old Zen story: A student asks, "Please write for me something of great wisdom... Master Ichu picked up his brush and wrote one word, "attention..." --Nothing Special Living Zen by Charlotte Joko Beck

All of us in the busy whirrings of our mind, find that in the modern world there is so very much competing for our senses, our eyes and ears most especially. We are easily bombarded with advertisements and other communications, all of which have the potential to take us away from this place, this body and this present moment. Suzuki wrote that a quiet mind is vital to self knowledge, to enlightenment.

We become wrapped up, each in our own great 'I'. There is the I who likes this, the I who doesn't like that; the I who wants to give an opinion and the I who wishes not to be missed, and then there's the I who just wishes and wishes. It is actually so easy to become entangled with 'I' because, in our daily lives, 'I' accompanies us everywhere and often interprets, interrogates, judges or assumes-- voicing all the while what 'I' wants, wishes and desires. It's no wonder the present moment becomes lost, or even the 'last moment.' Do we bother with the little things, portions of our daily musings, do we notice? Can I see that this moment is as important and unique as any other moment?

I stubbed my toe, my partner is angry with me, I missed the bus, my child is sick, I can't find my pen! Every one of these experiences occurs in a moment, present and unique, and then it's gone. So many, many moments are what our lives are made up of. When you think about it, there are only moments in a day, strung together by our varied experiences within that day. Tell a story of your own day. You will find a natural sequence to the experiences of that day, yet the progression of thoughts in your mind may not be so sequential, relevant or clear. An agile mind easily produces a life that can actually be experienced as muddy, messy, unclear, stressful.

When the student asked Master Ichu, as Charlotte Joko Beck writes of in her book, Nothing Special Everyday Zen, "something of great wisdom..." He wrote, Attention. The student said, "Is that all?" The master wrote, "Attention, Attention." The student was irritable--it was not profound or unique in the student's way of looking. The student then demanded of the teacher that he explain the meaning of this word, attention. The Master then replied that attention means attention.

Beck writes, "it is not a question of importance; it is a question of paying attention, being aware. Why? Because every moment in life is absolute in itself... So when we don't pay attention to each little this, we miss the whole thing. And the contents of this moment can be anything. It doesn't matter what the contents of the moment are; each moment is absolute."

Giving full attention, undivided to each moment, each person, each task is both a challenge and a gift that we receive in that moment. If we learn to pay total attention, we "would never be upset... if we are, we're not paying attention. The difficulty arises in a life when we give over a moment to something, to anything else.Our mind whirrs, spins off. Often it is to our self-centered thoughts, our ego: 'I want.' Focused on this notion, we lose attention to other things within and around us in the world; we miss the possibilities in the moment of something new, something good-- something, that while, impermanent, may be our answer. And just maybe life, lived simply as it is.