Nothing Special: Justice

"An appropriate and compassionate response does not come from the fight for justice..."  --Charlotte Joko Beck

Joko Beck in her book, Nothing Special, Living Zen, observes "When someone insists, 'I am never angry,' I am incredulous. Since anger, and its subsets, depression, anxiety, resentment, jealousy, gossip and backbiting and so on-- dominate our lives, we need to investigate the whole problem of anger with care... For the psychologically mature person, the ills and injustices of life are handled by counter-aggression, in which one makes an effort to eliminate the injustice and create justice. Often such efforts are dictatorial, full of anger and self-righteousness. In spiritual maturity, the opposite of injustice is not justice, but compassion... All anger is based upon judgements..."

The best answer to injustice is compassion, or love.  Joko Beck writes, "An appropriate and compassionate response does not come from the fight for justice, but from that radical dimension of practice that "passes all understanding," love.
As the Christ taught, "love your enemies," and Gandhi and Blessed Mother Teresea of Calcutta both knew, injustice is highlighted and resolved by means of love, of peaceful protest. It's not easy. We must go through the darkness, the pain and grief before coming to the lightness that will ultimately be our guide, and our justice.

"Let us not adopt some facile, narrowly psychological view of our lives. The radical dimension that I speak of demands everything that we are and have. Joy, not happiness, is its fruit."

Nothing Special: Promises Not Kept

"He who does not expect, has all things"

Charlotte Joko Beck writes, "Our human trouble arises from desire. Not all desires generate problems, however. There are two kinds of desires: demands, I have to have it, and preferences. Preferences are harmless, "they are what we would want to like to have,' Beck writes.

"Desire that demands to be satisfied is the problem. It's as if we feel that we're constantly thirsty, and to quench our thirst we try to attach a hose to a faucet in the wall of life. We keep thinking that from this or that faucet we will get the water we demand... We demand countless things of ourselves and the world; almost anything can be seen as desirable, a socket we can attach ourselves to, so that we can finally get the drink we believe we need... self-assured [or not], underneath it all we feel that there is something lacking.

We feel we have to fix our life, quench our thirst. We've got to get that connection, to hook up our hose to that faucet... The problem is that nothing actually works. 
We begin to discover that the promise we hold out to ourselves... is never kept... If we've been trying for years... to attach our hose... there comes a moment of profound discouragement... and it dawns on us that nothing can really fulfill our demands... 
That moment of despair is in fact a blessing, the real beginning... A strange thing [then] begins to happen when we let go of our expectations... 
Practice has to be a process of endless disappointment... [In] good sitting we must notice the promise that we wish to extract from other people and abandon the dream that they can quench our thirst."

Christianity refers to this experience as the dark night of the soul, the moment when one enters into union with that which is greater, and infinite love, though the gate may be narrow, the joys are great:

"Do to others whatever you would have them do to you. This is the law and the prophets.

Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate which is wide and the road broad, lead to destruction, and those who enter through it are many.

'How narrow the gate and constricted the road that leads to life. And those who find it are few."
--The Bible, Matthew chapter 7, verses 12-14

Thomas Merton: Union and Division

"We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord."

If you read these posts, and think perhaps, that the blog is misnamed, think carefully, look deeply, because the raft is not the shore. The way to enlightenment may be fast as Suzuki, or it may be slow; the simple mind sees in possibility. Revelation is ongoing in Buddhist commentary, as indeed it is in the oral Torah of Judaism, or in the Christ revealed. Thomas Merton, an important 20th century theologian, a member of the Catholic Christian sect, or order, the Cistercians, whose roots date back nearly a thousand years.

Thomas Merton was French, born in Prades, France. His parents, artists, Ruth and Owen Merton died when he was young. His early years were spent in the south of France; later, he went to private school in England and then to Cambridge University. By the time Merton was a young teen, he moved to his grandparents' home in the United States to finish his education at Columbia University in New York City.

Merton's active social and political conscience was also informed by his conversion to Catholic Christianity in his early twenties. In December 1941, he resigned his teaching post at Bonaventure College, Olean, NY, and journeyed to the Trappist (Cistercian) monastery, Abbey of Gethsemani, near Louisville, Kentucky.
There, Merton undertook the life of a scholar and man of letters, in addition to his formation as a Cistercian monk.

The thoroughly secular man was about to undertake a lifelong spiritual journey into faith and monasticism, and the pursuit of his own spirituality. His importance as a writer in the American literary tradition is becoming clear. His influence as a religious thinker and social critic is taking its place. His explorations of the religions of the east initiated Merton's entrance into inter-religious dialogue, placing him in worldwide ecumenical movements, in the spirit of Saint Peter (I Peter 3:15), "to give an explanation for the reason of our hope [that we may be as one]."
Excerpt from the website, Thomas Merton Society of Canada:

Union and Division

"In order to become myself, [my original face] I must cease to be what I always thought I wanted to be, and in order to find myself, I must go out of myself, and in order to live, I have to die [to myself].
The reason for this is that I am born in selfishness and therefore my natural efforts to make myself more real and more myself, make me less real and less myself, because they revolve around a lie."--Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

Merton writes in his book, New Seeds of Contemplation, that "people who know nothing of God, and whose lives are centered on themselves, imagine that they can find themselves by asserting their own desires and ambitions and appetites in a struggle with the rest of the world. They try to become real by imposing themselves on other people, by appropriating... and thus emphasizing the difference between themselves and the other men who have less than they, or nothing at all... they conceive of only one way of becoming real: cutting themselves off... and building a barrier of contrast and distinction... they do not know that reality is to be sought not in division, but in unity, for we are members of one another.'

"The man who lives in division is not a person but only an individual. I have what you have not; I am what you are not... thus I spend my life admiring the distance between you and me... The man who lives in division, lives in death.
He cannot find himself because he is lost; he ceases to be a reality...
Once he has started on this path, there is no limit to the evil his self satisfaction may drive him to..."

Finally Merton notes, the start of the Way for this man begins in emptiness; "I must look for my identity, somehow, not only in God, but in other men. I will not ever be able to find myself if I isolate myself." Co-union in support, in Sangha, is the beginning of the Way.

Centers of Light

 "Joy is prayer--joy is strength--joy is love." --Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta

Bliss of Identity

All nature is taught in radiant ways to move
All beings are in myself embraced
O fiery boundless heart of joy and love,
How are you beating in a mortal's breast!

It is your rapture flaming through my nerves
and my cells and atoms thrill with You;
My body your vessel is and only serves
As a living wine-cup of Your ecstasy.

I am a center of your golden light
And I its vast and vague circumference;
You are my soul great, luminous and white
And Yours, my mind and will, and glowing sense.

Your spirit's infinite breath I feel in me;
My life is a throb of your eternity.
--Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Idea of Tantra
When you are alone and in your own place, you are dancing for the god and identifying with it. This whole idea is basic to Tantra: to worship a god, you must become that god. No matter what you call the god or think it is, the god you worship is the god you are capable of becoming.
The power of a deity is that it personifies a power that is in Nature and in your nature. When you find that level, then you are in play. That is the work of art in general, because art is really worship.
--Joseph Campbell, Reflections on the Art of Living

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Does God Exist?
Perceptible and yet not perceptible; invisible and yet powerful, real like the energy--charged air, wind, storm, as important for life as the air we breathe: this is how in ancient times people imagined the Spirit, and God's "invisible" workings... Spirit as understood in the Bible, means--as opposed to flesh, the force or power moving from God.
An "invisible" force that is effective, powerful, creative, or destructive for life in judgement, in creation, in history, in Israel and later in the [Christian] Church. It comes upon one powerfully or gently, stirring up love, ecstasy, often producing extraordinary phenomenon, active in great minds of courage, of Moses, warriors, singers, prophets and prophetesses.

The Spirit is not--as the word itself might suggest--the spirit of mankind. This is the Spirit of God, who in the [oneness] Holy Spirit is the light of all creation and the world. He is not any sort of magic, supernatural aura, or magical being of an animistic kind.
The Spirit is the One, the God himself. He is God close to mankind and the world... comprehending, bestowing, but not bestowable, free, not controllable; he is life giving love, power and force. A wind blowing through all of Creation by divine will, but not by any force."
He comes where he is willed and stays afar from where he is not, in a sort of Divine wisdom, the Spirit waits to be called.
--Hans Kung, Does God Exist?

Real Lifework

"I was not happy. I hated what I was doing." Being Zen by Ezra Bayada

Many times, many of us engage ourselves and our time in occupations and jobs that while we may be successful and we may be quite competent with the tasks required, there is the nagging thought or a feeling that this just isn't for us, it isn't the right thing to be pursuing.

Ezra Bayada writes in his book, Being Zen, that "I was not happy. I hated [my work] what I was doing and anguished for more than a year over finding my "life work... A fellow practitioner suggested that every time anxiety arose over what kind of work would be right for me, I refrain from thinking about it and instead attempt to feel the physical reality of my life at that moment."

Bayada writes that as a young person and a person new to the practice, he initially didn't make a whole lot of sense out of the advice. It didn't jive with any of his previous experiences. Still he followed the direction, to stop, listen, look and feel "the moment," any moment in his daily existence and learn a new way to experience himself in his own skin. He says, "I didn't get any insights into what work to pursue, [but] I sensed something genuine about the quality of awareness that was apparent when I put thinking aside and focused on the "Whatness" of the moment... out of the blue, I realized my path..."

By continuing this way he writes that he also came to realize that by following his realization to become a carpenter, he would have to address many of his fears and self-beliefs that he knew held him back from having "a clear understanding of who we are and what our life is." He also observes that the tendency to live our lives through our minds' intellect, through ruminating, thinking, weighing and measuring, is really about the very natural desire to have solid ground beneath our feet. But isn't the ground already solid? What more do we need to add to it? Is it ground or is it me, who is the change?
Our personal feeling of "groundlessness" that often accompanies change is also natural. It can be frightening to let go and fall, trusting that the "ground" below will allow us to land on our feet. And yet it is the willingness to experience the sense of change, of temporary groundlessness that brings insight; it brings clarity.

Bayada offers a practice suggestion for those coping with the feelings of groundlessness related to change. He asks us to ask our self the question, "What do I have to offer[here]?" He asks us to ask this question often and to find what the answers are. We may be surprised. And we may realize more of our self.

What Part of Me Believes That?

"Sometimes we are startled. Where did that come from? I didn't know I felt so strongly." -- Robert Johnson, writer, Jungian psychologist

As a student and one associated with the late Carl Jung, Robert Johnson carries on Jung's work. Jung, unlike many of his generation, was one who believed that the base root of most all personal problems is not functional, some described such as "toxic", "games," "setting fences and boundaries," but rather spiritual challenges or crises that are not limited solutions or positions; instead they are potentially limitless and as unique as the persons who pose them. These other terms have no place in the spiritual world; they are 'pop psychology' and not terribly helpful. Sometimes they are denigrating; often they indicate power seeking by the one who utters them. The Simple mind avoids thoughts like these because people are greater than the sum of their mistakenness and sometimes confusion.

We can learn by examining our issues closely. What is it about me that feels this way? Why do I think that? What part of it sets off this (intense) reaction in me? Robert Johnson takes up a small part of this issue writing, "We remember getting worked up in a conversation and blurting out some strong opinion that we didn't know consciously we held." And we are startled by this sudden revelation not only to those listening but in our self equally! There is this sudden surge of emotional energy and maybe we suddenly find we are being our self, because what constitutes our self is the totality which necessarily includes our unconscious pronouncements. These "hidden parts of our self have strong feelings and want to express themselves."

Sometimes the hidden or unconscious part of our self is zany, sometimes its out of sync with social norms; sometimes it's embarrassing, violent, or humiliating when these facets of the self, parts of our personality, abruptly emerge. Other times, points of talent or strength arise, suddenly surprising us with their skill and clarity. As we grow, we may conclude that we are a different kind of person than we previously thought. Complicating matters, our qualities both positive and negative, emotional and intellectual may or may not arrive at precisely the most appropriate moments. This can leave us feeling strongly for or against someone or something and having the intellectual thought, Why? We may not yet understand.

Into the mix, our self definition is called into play; we are challenged by it. The unconscious is a huge energy system. Like others have famously observed the heart has its reasons, and the reception of its images and messages can be deeply informative to our spiritual and growing selves.

Friends with God

  " Unchained from Judaism, the parent of Christianity, one easily comes to the idea that God doesn't care what you do, or what your will be..."  -- a Simple Mind

Writing with a very different understanding of the cosmos, author, Neale Donald Walsch in his book, Friendship With God, writes: "God does not care what we do because of why we are here." Some will easily argue that his conception of the universe and the cosmos is incomplete, therefore flawed by the standards of current scholarship. For example, while in Walsch's view, God acknowledges himself as the creator of life, but then he (Walsch) adds that he created us in his image so that we could be creators as well. At first this sounds possible. We are conceived and people do conceive further... However, he continues, writing: "God has no special will for us: ". . . your will for you is God's will for you . . . I have no preference in the matter . . . I do not care what you do . . ."

Whoa. Here we hit the skids. The Decalogue is shot. In many references, the Torah tells of an attentive and caring Lord.  It writes of covenants, agreements made between God and the people, Israel. Not so in Walsch: God continues on, saying that we are not here to learn lessons, but only "to remember, and re-create, who you are." This came about because God, who originally was all that existed, longed "to know what it felt like to be so magnificent" and was not satisfied unless there was a reference point through which God could know his magnificence..."

Has anyone picked up a book on philosopher and mathematician Gotfried Leibnitz's idea of the Monad lately? It's all in there. Here it is in ungarbled form: Monism most simply argues for the idea that there is unity, only unity and not dualism. Many, if not most all of the world religions address this issue. Now review the writing of Walsch once more after reading Leibnitz's ideas. It is less clear to this Simple Mind what Walsch's point really is.

 For more views on this topic, one writer's thoughts Marcia Montnegro's, and the thoughts of University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point philosophy professor, Joseph Waligore:
christiananswersforthenewage.org/Articles_BookreviewWalsch.html
spiritualcritiques.com/author-criticisms/neale-donald-walsch/

Joy, the Radical Dimension

"There is no peace without justice" --Pope John Paul II

Joko Beck in her book, Nothing Special, Living Zen, observes "When someone insists, 'I am never angry,' I am incredulous. Since anger, and its subsets, depression, anxiety, resentment, jealousy, gossip and backbiting and so on-- dominate our lives, we need to investigate the whole question of anger with care... For the psychologically mature person, the ills and injustices of life are handled by counter-aggression, in which one makes an effort to eliminate the injustice and create justice. Often such efforts are dictatorial, full of anger and self-righteousness. In spiritual maturity, the opposite of injustice is not justice, but compassion... All anger is based upon judgments..."

The best answer to injustice is compassion, or love. Joko Beck writes, "An appropriate and compassionate response does not come from the fight for justice, but from that radical dimension of practice that "passes all understanding;" some call it love. As Christ taught, "love your enemies," Gandhi and Blessed Mother Teresea of Calcutta both knew, injustice is highlighted and resolved by means of love, of peaceful protest. It's not easy. We must go through the darkness, the pain and grief before coming to the lightness that will ultimately be our guide, and our justice.
"Let us not adopt some facile, narrowly psychological view of our lives. The radical dimension that I speak of demands everything that we are and have. Joy, not happiness, is its fruit." Radical because it is not what the world expects; radical because we may consciously and actively choose it.

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.

Sunyata

"All the world's religious traditions have potential to help us become better human beings." -- The 14th Dalai Lama, writing a forward in the book, The Mystic Heart by Wayne Teasdale.

People, notes the 14th Dalai Lama, "eat rice because it grows best where they live, not because it is either better or worse than bread." Likewise he notes, "the world's religions share the same essential purpose. We must maintain respect and harmony among them... Religion, for most of us depends on our family background-- where we were born and grew up. I think it is usually better not to change that." In the book, The Mystic Heart by author Wayne Teasdale, His Holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama writes an introductory forward to the volume which follows.

Teasdale starts this work with the notion of moral duty. This may be tough one for some to swallow in a world where every man is his own individual, corporate entity. "Consider that domination, cruelty, greed, violence, and all our other ills arise from a sense of insufficient and insecure being. I need more... but it's never enough... All these others threaten us, intimidate us, make us anxious. We can't control them... Our actions [may] turn to openness, trust, inclusion, nurturance and communion... Raising our hidden knowledge of unity, rearranging our dynamism, is something we can practice."

The Mystic Heart takes up the idea of the inter-relatedness of not only religions, but also of persons. Teasdale writes at length, establishing common ground between the world faiths, those of thousand years standing and those emerging. He writes of the commonality of the monastic experience, and he writes about the Buddhist notion of sunyata. Sunyata is often translated from the Sanskrit to mean void or emptiness, but this is the clumsiness of words.
It is also described variously; here a phrase hits home, 'sunyata or how to untie what has never been tied.' This may be closer to its truer meaning and sense of emptying, unloading, freedom. Sunyata is a central tenet of Buddhist thought. Sunyata is a positive thought, to be empty, to be free to receive.

 Emptiness not only empties everything else, but also empties itself. There is the passage  in the Prajnaparamita Sutra, also called The Heart Sutra which states:

   Listen, Shariputra, Form is emptiness, emptiness is form, form does not differ from emptiness, emptiness does not differ from form. The same is true for feelings, mental formations and consciousness.  version from: The Heart of Understanding by Thich Nhat Hanh

Sunyata then, contains characteristics of wisdom and compassion. Wisdom in  recognizing the light of   suchness, everything in its own nature. All things are equally recognized by their suchness. The wisdom  of  sunyata is inseparable from the compassion aspect of sunyata. Sunyata is compassion-- light, realization, an awakening of the creative, essential nature of all -- and then nothing. Sunyata is comprised of all things, all judgments, all moral, and all ill in the ultimate world.

Emptying ourselves of  the false self or the unconscious identity of mere self-interest, is in the way to a larger identity of the divinity. A similar result happens within the process of  Sunyata. Awakening to the Buddha mind universal, develops compassion.  And yet Sunyata calls for a universal mind, free of all constraints so as to heed the great intelligence-mind of the Dharmakaya.

It is rain that falls so totally into the river. What then is the water, what then, the rain?

Found in Innocence

This article appeared here previously on July 2, 2009

"Innocence is a mystery greater than evil." James Hillman

Innocence in the soul suggests a state in which one exists unwounded by the every day challenges and trials of the world. Recovering innocence is to refrain from self cruelty or the equally prevalent cruelty inflicted upon others, to work and live in such a way as to gain in the strength needed to live a creative life. Spirit moves in innocence.

Innocence in adult life amounts to a renewal, a return to the essential elements necessary to the life of a Creator. It is more than unknowing; in this sense, innocence is not the least opposed to sophistication, or to its opposite, a childlike state of openness that finds itself needed in a maturity which is agile, and graceful continuity. If this is not in evidence, then the perceived maturity is not. Rather, it is simply a form of avoidance of without inherent value. Innocence is the vital element of all forms of play. Experience is key as the buddha taught. Children learn largely by experience.

Innocence is an often overlooked element of deep forgiveness as part of the restorative quality in the soul. Life's injuries are nearly unavoidable. However in deep forgiveness, over time, the wounds may be exchanged for the delights and joys of innocence discovered in shared experiences. Maturity need not mark or weigh us down with its cares or disappointments.

Another fertile area of life in which innocence makes its appearance is in love. In mythic terms, love and marriage are markedly different experiences for men and women. The god Eros gains in stature, in strength upon his marriage; yet in doing so writes Robert Johnson in his book She, "each woman in marriage must terminate her innocence and childlike naivety," a difficult, but essential experience for the mature feminine psyche. In the evolving process of maturity, a woman while not directly corresponding to her mate, influences and spurs his own development.

At different points in their parallel lives together, woman who most often bears the light in a man's life, finds that she has nothing to give to him--he simply just isn't looking, or able to look into the light she presents to him. While tangled with him, she may fear as a consequence, what she has then to lose. "There is something in the unconscious of a man that wishes to make an agreement" that she will not look too closely or too carefully at him; yet in maturity she does, and she must. Like the biblical garden of Eden, the pair in love find one another in innocence; their love experience is powerful. And it must be so to propel them into the experiences that comprise their shared lives. Yet as time unfolds, disappointment and disillusionment inevitably arise.

Ultimately it is only in forgiveness, in innocence, that the otherwise harsh judgements of one towards the other may be set aside for a return to the Beloved, to the innocence of the earlier garden of Eden, a paradise she may have feared lost.

Playing Triangles: Victim, Persecutor, Savior

The Simple Mind is away from the computer. This article ran here previously on March 26, 2009.

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

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.

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. Thus 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. Victims need not apply.

simplemindzen.blogspot.com

Living Awake and in the Truth, Part 2

Simple Mind is away from the computer. The following appeared here earlier this year, January 2, 2009.

Assumptions--are just that, assumptions.
To the Simple Mind, we are aware that things change, and in fact it is desirable because if they did not there would not be the opening for learning, for the new, a relief from what pains us, or hope. We would remain angry, fearful, resentful, confused. Pray for impermanence.
Working with this precept, we no longer try to escape the experience; rather like a scientist, we wait and observe our self, our reaction, our perceptions and what exists in this moment around us.
Reactions, like emotions, are automatic, they just happen. But what we choose to do isn't a happenstance. The will chooses and then we act. This is a freedom that we take so as to make best use and advantage of our circumstances.

What do we do when we find ourselves in the midst of gossip? What about that?
Sometimes we want to feel part of a group or an event by talking ill of another person, or deliberately excluding others, to feel more special or bonded -- us against them. Gossip is when we say things about others that are potentially harmful or slanderous to that other person -- with full knowledge of this in our mind.
This is distinguished from speaking about others with the intention of sorting out our thoughts or feelings, or problem solving.

Then there are the instant reactions that lead us into hurtful speech or action. What about when we feel insulted? How about when an emotion demands our attention?
Before beginning earnest practice, maybe we just walked away or changed the subject to avoid what we judged distasteful. Maybe we excused ourselves with the thought that "they deserve it, anyway."

Sometimes we counted to 10 or went for a walk before answering that insulting remark, that hurtful phrase. These tactics likely stopped or controlled our reactions, but to really move beyond, to move to a Simple Mind requires a different response. A response that perhaps to this point in our lives we are unfamiliar with.
We must through practice, in awareness, dismantle our habitual thoughts and patterns of behavior. These are habits which cause us to suffer; those perceived thoughts, the imagined self which keeps us in the dream.
When we gain in awareness, then our deepest beliefs and fears may be faced honestly and squarely. We respond to what is so, to reality as it is by experience, not driven by fear, anger or other passion. Our response is what is required, according to our will, our desire to be as we are.

With this precept, our practice becomes meeting life in all its possibilities, in its newness, and its sometimes strangeness.

And while certainty, feeling "sure" is seductive, and it can make us feel safe, prayers for change, for impermanence are part of the Way. As a Mahayana practitioner notes, 'when a flower dies, we don't cry, because we know flowers are impermanent.' Understanding this, we will suffer less and be joyful more. Impermanence is not negative!
Does it then, in the Way, mean that we have to lose all that we care for? Of course not; the community remains and is important. What is also important is that we not cling so tightly to persons or things, that we fail to recognize the nature of change.
So, to gain in skillfulness and practice of the precepts, we must turn to experience, the present moment as our guide, and not simply notions or intellectual ideas.

As Joko Beck has said, "when we experience for ourselves the transitory nature of beliefs, then it no longer has us in a strong hold. We can be freer from our requirements--freer to speak truthfully." Isn't it odd how those we care for most deeply, those who have meaning to us in our daily lives, are those for whom we most often hold deeply, and those whom we entrench in our faultfinding?

This is one of the ways in which we may avoid ourselves.
We are dishonest with ourselves first before the other. By focusing not on our own experience, but on what we think must be the experience of another, we criticize, nit-pick, fault. Sometimes, most often, those negative attributes are really our own.
Our own views may thus be frozen; we may not be acting from awareness of our selves-- what are we feeling, what is my perception/experience? If we do not take the critical self view, like that of a scientist, examining our own functioning, our own organism, faultfinding gains a hold. We react to something that may not even be real at all-- at least not real beyond our own mind, and then we suffer the consequences when the world rebuffs us, as it must.


Other ways of avoiding or not being truthful are several:

*Do I add to the story my own facts, interpretations or opinions as though they are true?

Try seeing yourself as the other person whom you spoke about. How do your words fit now? What is your experience?

*Do I keep silent? Do I comment when in a group about something I know, or do I allow it to pass by?

What is your intention in keeping silent? What is your experience? Do I take some advantage from not speaking?

As you practice, keep in mind that in the Simple Mind, speaking truthfully is neither better nor worse.

Precepts: Living Awake and in the Truth, Part 1

Simple Mind is away from the computer. The following is a favorite which appeared here last year, December 31, 2008.--SimplemindZen

Taking up the precept of the Way of Speaking Truthfully is often a first precept encountered and one of the most obvious, yet not always to ourselves. Many of us have finely developed defenses to what would otherwise intrude upon our dream of self. Some have referred to this as being fond of, or attached to our "favorite sins."

In truth we find the ability and power to break away from our usual thought habits and self destructive practices-- practices that act to keep us separated from our true selves, from our peace and our joy. Yet as practitioners of the Way, we see there is only just this moment, that it arises from other moments, and that this moment now leads the way to every other moment. In the Simple Mind, there then is awareness that "where ever you go, there you are now."

Truth is expressed as only just this. Truth turns us towards the realization that our assumptions of permanence are just that, assumptions. Thus living in awareness of truth causes us to look carefully, and to see that practice in this instance is to challenge those assumptions of what it is that makes the world real to us. What is truth, what is "such"?

Here our true self lies, and in the freedom of the truth is our strength.

Commentary: Sacrifice and Victim

"Religious practice is about atonement."
--C. Joko Beck, Nothing Special


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. 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. Thus 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.
Victims need not apply.
simplemindzen.blogspot.com

Nasrudin: The Lamp and the Key

Sufism, as a practice, emphasizes certain unique rituals for guiding spiritual seekers into a direct encounter with God. It comes from the Islamic traditions in places especially Persia or Iran.
Muhammad is considered the chief prophet; many consider Sufism to be a mystical practice of Islam. The following story by the great Sufi teacher, Nasrudin, illustrates a common experience for those along the Way.

His friend, Mansour, comes to visit him and sees Nasruddin on his hands and knees, crawling on the sidewalk under the street lamp, obviously searching for something, appearing frustrated.

Concerned for his friend, Mansour asks, "Nasruddin, what are you looking for? Did you lose something?"

"Yes, Mansour. I lost the key to my house, and I’m trying to find it, but I can’t."

"Let me help you," responds Mansour. Mansour joins his friend, kneels down on his hands and knees, and begins to crawl on the sidewalk under the street lamp, searching.

After a time, having looked everywhere on and around the sidewalk, neither Nasruddin nor Mansour can find the lost key. Puzzled, Mansour asks his friend to recall his steps when he last had the key, "Nasruddin, where did you lose the key? When did you last have it?"

"I lost the key in my house," Nasruddin responds.

"In your house?" repeats the astonished Mansour. "Then why are we looking for the key here, outside on the sidewalk under this street lamp?”

Without hesitation, Nasruddin explains, “Because there is more light here . . . !”

In his book At Home in the Muddy Water, by Ezra Bayda, Buddhist practitioner and teacher, recounts this story about a key and a light.
"In trying to uncover how to best proceed with practice, we're often like Nasrudin, looking in the wrong place. Sometimes we're looking in the wrong place for something that isn't even there. We think there is a magic key, some experience that will make the practice permanently clear, especially in the midst of everyday difficulties." In the simple mind, we realize there is no magic key, nor do we need one. What is needed is to persevere through the ups and downs of life. We hold our own key.

The Dharma, The Tao, The Way

The terms Dharma, Tao and the Way are familiar spiritual descriptions, often tossed around which come from several spiritual traditions, both East and West. Yet as the well known Indian physician and author, Deepak Chopra writes in his book The Path To Love, what may seem as separate is really not so, through interbeing. He discusses these traditions as long living in the human world, that they are in his view, rather more unified, that they inter-be as one.

"Dharma" is also translated as "law" or "righteousness." In India, today someone who follows the family tradition of work, worship, and social behavior is said to be in his "dharma." Modern Western society is not dharmic in any of these ways, since our children feel free to choose very different occupations from their parents', along with new codes of behavior and new places to live. In both East and West the rootedness of a dharmic society has been undermined in this century.

However, Dharma is more than social convention; it is a living force that can bring you through the many threats and challenges of life. Your ego [western term, from the Latin meaning self or I] does not believe this for it cannot find dharma; ego is not guided by love, and dharma is intimately tied to love. In the West, the closest concept to dharma is grace [one, whole, universal], the loving presence of God that keeps humanity under divine protection. When Jesus spoke of God seeing the fall of a sparrow, he was referring to dharma. In China, the same concept emerged as Tao, the middle way, which was seen as an invisible but real power that organizes all life. Being in tune with the way is the same as living within dharma. The Christian term the Way is likewise. Jesus exhorted his disciples to "come follow me."

"Every spiritual tradition has taught that success in life depends upon finding the Way and ignoring the distractions of external things. Your Ego, however, insists that your survival depends upon paying total attention to the outer world. Its primary tactics--vigilance and defensiveness--are the very antithesis of surrender in the way. Your ego, a perception of which, causes you to believe that separation is necessary..." In reality separation is not ever necessary; it is something chosen or not.

Being in dharma however, "heals separation by making us [inter-being] a reality," not as a 'unit of two,' but as a whole, oneness, a universal spirit. Chopra explains further, "You are acting in dharma whenever you allow rather than oppose. Allowing results in statements such as these:

* Is there something you need?
* How can I help?
* I see what's going on with you.
* Go ahead.
* I understand what you mean.
* You're right.

"Unity makes another person's viewpoint completely clear; you understand someone who is outside yourself." What makes this possible is the realization of inter-being, that what you value, esteem, follow isn't something outside yourself, it may be only outside of your ego. Thus "following your dharma in the deepest sense means not only obeying the laws set down by society or adhering to rules of religious conduct--there is no fixed formula for finding the Way..." Set spiritual guideposts for yourself, thus making this newer, broader meaning of dharma essential.

Love, No Beginning, No End

Love comes often as a surprise, an accident, a gift. It comes not as we choose, but as we, the chosen one. Always love is a gift shared between two or more persons. If it is not reciprocal, not shared, it may be a relationship but it is not love.

In his book, Cultivating the Mind of Love, Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh relates to the reader his personal, honest experience. He says he was young monk, meeting a young nun, and "Seeing her standing there like that was like a fresh breeze blowing across my face...I had never had a feeling like that." Falling in love is an accident, he concludes, but it is also more.

You see he writes, "in our store consciousness are buried all the seeds, representing everything we have ever done, experienced or perceived. When a seed is watered, it manifests in our mind consciousness...we have to trust, knowing that all the seeds of enlightenment and happiness are already there... We only need to be there, to allow the seeds of love and understanding that are deep within us to be watered."

Anything that waters these deepest, true seeds within us is true Dharma. We become filled with the mind of enlightenment, the mind of love. Filling us with joy, confidence and energy, we feel alive. Yet "our mind of love may be buried under many layers of forgetfulness and suffering. If we are lucky, we may find someone in our community who is skillful enough so as to enable us to touch this seed, the mind of love."

The community of practitioners is vital to one who seeks to live by experience, the simple mind, to touch the mind of love. This group may be large; it may be just two or three persons who support one another. They, solidly forming, to support and encourage one another in the practice of mindfully examining themselves and the world around in this moment. "If you don't have anyone who understands you, who encourages you in the practice...your desire to practice may wither."

The mind of love is a strong power within you. You are alive with it; it is a matter of watering those seeds to bring it forth. Thich writes, "Where is the self? Where is the non-self? Who is your first love? Who is your last? What is the difference between our first love and our last love? How can anything die?

'If you want to touch my love, please touch yourself." Water which flows in spring, in winter, is a bright, solid mass. In a cold pond, it reflects the bright, full moon. Can you hold onto the water by its form? Can you trace its source? Do you know when and where it will end? "It is the same with your first love. Your first love has no beginning and will have no end. It is still alive, in the stream of your being."

Love may indeed be an accident, but we need not avoid it, nor the gift that it may bring us. While this accident may "cause us some suffering...we will survive."
simplemindzen.blogspot.com

Self Honesty and Forgiveness

The Ideal of Forgiveness, a tale from India.

Gopal's Eternal Brother

Once there was a great king named Vishwamitra. One day he learned that there was a saint in his kingdom whom everybody adored. The name of this saint was Vashishtha, and everyone gladly touched his feet. Now, although Vishwamitra was a very great king, nobody used to come and touch his feet.
People were afraid of him, and they would tremble before him. But with Vashishtha it was different. People gladly touched Vashishtha's feet with deepest appreciation and admiration.
So Vishwamitra was extremely jealous of Vashishtha. Vashishtha was a very great saint. After praying to God for many, many years, Vashishtha had realised God, and could speak to God face to face.
Vishwamitra knew that this was the reason why everybody was adoring Vashishtha instead of him, so he too started praying to God.

He prayed to God for a couple of years very seriously, often fasting but still he did not realise God. Then he became impatient. He went to Vashishtha and said, "You have realised God, but I have not been able to. I wish you to tell the world that I have also realised God, like you."

Vashista replied, "How can I say that?" "You can say it," the king insisted. "If you tell people, everybody will believe you, because you yourself have realised God. You know who God is, you speak to God. Tell everyone that I have realised God. Otherwise I shall kill your children!" Vashishtha said, "You can kill my children, but I cannot tell a lie."
Vishwamitra was a most powerful king. One by one he had the hundred sons of Vashishtha killed. The hundred sons were very well educated, kind and spiritual. They had studied the Vedas, the Upanishads and other religious and sacred books.

Nevertheless, the notorious king killed them all. Even after doing this Vishwamitra was not satisfied, because Vashishtha still refused to announce that he had realised God.
After a few months he thought, "This time he has to tell the world that I have realised God, or I shall kill him!" With this idea in his mind he went to Vashishtha's small cottage.

Before knocking at the door he stood outside quietly listening to the conversation inside. Arundhati, one of Vashishtha's wives, was saying to her husband, "My lord, why don't you say that Vishwamitra has realised God? If you had said it I would still have all my children. They were such nice, kind, devoted children.
They were all jewels. But just because you wouldn't say that he has realised God, he has killed all my children, and who knows what he will do next!"
Vashishtha said, "How can you ask me to do that? I love him. He has not realised God. How can I tell people that he has realised God? I love him and that is why I cannot tell a lie."

Even though Vishwamitra had killed the hundred sons of Vashishtha, the father could still say that he loved him! When Vishwamitra heard what Vashishtha said, he came running in and touched Vashishtha's feet, crying, "Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, my lord. I never knew that anyone on earth could love a person who had killed all his children."
Vashishtha placed his hand on Vishwamitra's head and blessed him. He said, "Today you have realised God, because today you know what love is, what truth is. God is all forgiveness. I am forgiving you, because the God in me is forgiving you. Today you have realised God."

What do we learn from this story? We learn that the ideal of forgiveness is the supreme ideal. When we pray to God, we see God's qualities: love and forgiveness. When we receive love and forgiveness from God, we can behave like God towards other people. Vashishtha's hundred sons were killed, yet even then he loved Vishwamitra.

Then, when Vishwamitra begged for forgiveness, Vashishtha gave it immediately, as well as giving him his inner Light, Joy and Power. Like Vashishtha, we always have the ability to forgive people when they do wrong things.
In this way we give them our Light, our Truth, our Joy. From this story we also learn the importance of associating with holy men.
When we are in the company of a spiritual person, even for a second, what transformation takes place in our life! Our life is changed in the twinkling of an eye.

From Gopal's Eternal Brother And Other Stories for Children by Sri Chinmoy

Mother Teresa, the Venerable: "If we really want to love,
[ our self first, and then the other ] we must learn how to forgive."

Blind by Definition

The Philosopher Soren Kierkegaard wrote

...'that with such passionate clearness a man sees and knows over what he is in despair, but about what it is-- escapes his notice... For the "immediate" man does not recognize his self; he recognizes himself only by his dress, he recognizes that he has a self only by externals... In possibility, everything is possible, thus a man can go astray in all possible ways. One form is wishful... the other form is melancholy, fantastic--on one hand hope, on the other fear or dread... In order to will [when] in despair, to be oneself, there must be consciousness of the infinite self.'

The self who one might think of as the 'original face,' is the face that existed before you were born. Yet we are all blind by definition. We may see the other clearly, but not ourself. As Ezra Bayda writes in At Home in the Muddy Waters, 'to the extent that we're not aware...we're bound to follow this predictable path. When two people who don't know themselves reach the point of conflict, the result is a collision... even though it may be easy to see how unaware the other person is, our own blind spots are blind by definition. Yet these [persistent] conflicts are clues that we're in the dark... believing in our reaction is another tell tale sign of darkness to self. Many power struggles have resulted from a perceived notion of a failing, or a loss of a good or promise to us. We then act to recoup what must be ours, partitioned, from our now enemy. But in the exchange, we are mired in both our hopes and our fears; we despair to will to be ourself, the face that exists now and infinitely.

'Failure to work with, and to work out our perceived 'need for power, our self centered desires to possess, our fear based need to control results in hatred, intolerance and aggression. The blindness to self firstly, and towards the other secondly, is the source of all conflicts...without inner understanding, individuals and societies flounder," writes Bayda.

Part of the simple mind, joy in relationships, comes not so much from getting what we think we need, or from happiness, but from contact with our essential self, our infinite or original self. The expression of this connection is through generosity, a sharing of that self infinitely. It is like a well, we drink of its unending source all that is essential.