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.

Jim Elliot, Waiting On God

"Surely God is good to his Israel." Jim Elliot

In 1945 with the world war now behind, the nation turned herself to other matters; a young man, Jim Elliot commenced his studies at Wheaton College, an esteemable Protestant Christian bible college located in Wheaton, Illinois. Apart from Bible scholarship, Wheaton is perhaps best known for its conservative views, prohibiting drinking, dancing and smoking among its students.
As a protestant, Christian institution it offers a solid education in bible learning, Greek, Latin and other modern languages as well as subjects which support christian missionary activities and ministries. His education prepared him well for the experiences which were about to come to him.

Against this backdrop, Elisabeth Elliot edits her husband's journals, including their chronicle of his later work in South America in the high Andes, The Journals of Jim Elliot. She writes in the foreword that what becomes most prominent in these journals is his dedication to his Lord, his ministry and his "consuming thirst to do what he saw as the will" of the Creator.
He reminds us not to "bind down the word of God... it's (the Spirit of the Lord) free to say what it will." He also makes it clear that quiet and solitude are important to develop ones' spiritual, inner life.

While his life was cut short, in his 29 years, he demonstrated a remarkable young faithfulness and other character traits such as determination and sensitivity to the working of the Spirit as he recognized them.
Indirectly, he asks the questions of trust or mercy, faith or belief which many before and many after him have also pondered.
And he addresses the great question of love.
Like many others before, he met his end steadfastly and ignominiously as a Christian, martyred in the wilds of the Andes by members of the Auca Indians, natives to the region in which Elliot felt called to minister.

Contrasting the sincere devotion of Elliot there are those persons, past and present who represent a different face of Christianity. Some may come to accept their particular views, while others may not.
Recently this Simple Mind had the occasion to hear the speech of a radio preacher.
Clearly a person involved in a segment of the Protestant Christian tradition as opposed to the Orthodox-Catholic Christian traditions, he was in the midst of espousing the abhorrence of "meditation as an evil" due to its apparent complicity with the evil spirits and demons of the world.
Using a bible verse and applying an interpretation of said verse, this man claimed that the Bible was clear, that meditation was evil due to its tendency to free the mind of extraneous thoughts, thereby giving evil the opportunity to enter and possess a soul.

Now, is one to accept this thinking because "we say so," or is one to further study its source or implication to determine true motive? Will Relativism or political correctness accept his thinking because it's his thinking, thus one can't judge, or are we to act to discern the meaning and intention of such a claim?

If this claim is true for the limits of the particular individual, then it is not unreasonable to presume that this person is also contemptuous against all denominations of Buddhism, much or all of the mystical Judeo-Christian tradition and Hinduism, for starters. Well, what's does that leave off the list? His speech sounds like an exercise in Calvinism, possibly or Puritanism, also related to Calvinists.

The take away for this Simple Mind is that truly there are those of many different stripes; the prime commandment for the Christian is not to demonize but to "love your neighbor as yourself, to love one another -- even your enemy." Anything less falls short of the disciples which the Christ called for and commanded. A Simple Mind questions this preacher and his (lack of) education. Ironic, isn't it?

Bids For Connection

Trying to hammer our points home, we try and try. Is part of the puzzle the way in which our words are used? Are we received in a way that feels genuine-- after all, mostly, we have a few simple wants at the end of each day. There is a longing for connection, to be felt, to be heard, to be seen, each of which is to be loved. To be loved more for who we are than what it is we do. Each of our lives has its own inherent dignity. How are we treating each other in any given moment?

Writer and thinker, John Gottman refers to these moments as bids for connection. And he says they are as much physical as they are spiritual. We want the one we are speaking to to turn and to listen to us, but we also want their heart to receive and consider our words. For it is deep within that our lives are in part made; while a first attempt may reduce the tension level, it doesn't always lead to the genuine heartfelt connection we often seek.
 Feeling safety in the prospect of vulnerability is possibly core to the ways of genuine spiritual connection with our self first and then others. Writing in his book, The Science of Trust, Gottman says "we can define the very nature of trust as having our partners best interests at heart, rather than just self-interest. Trust is the opposite of a zero sum game." Or perhaps another view is, that I can trust you to be as you are in any given place at any given time.

When we at first react to others, sometimes it's in 'wounded' mode so we can't really receive their message due to our perceived need to hang on tightly to our sense of effrontery or insult to our dignity.
And talk is cheap. We often, unconsciously even, regard others by what they do moreover than by what they say. And then no one wants to be the first to 'give in.' Finding the courage to be the one to make the first move, to overcome the very human reluctance to level, to be neither better nor worse than any other, can be scary.

 There are always risks to our daily interactions, and keeping in mind that love involves both giving and receiving, finding the courage to take the risk, to make the move is actually a very sacred gift to oneself as much as to others. These two essential elements, giving and receiving are the building blocks of the loving connections that we so often seek.
In bidding for connection, one may discover something that feels a whole lot better than fighting, and that together you are capable of producing something that's so much better after all.

Whether We Like It, Or Not

The Simple Mind returns

"All I can experience and work with is what my life is right now. That's all I can do." Joko Beck

In her book, Waking up to What You Do, Abbess Diane Rizzetto, explores the question that is posed by Joko Beck, who simply asks, "What prevents you from living the way you want to live your life?" The wealth and happiness of our own lives, it seems, is intricately tied into the wealth and happiness of others. Rizzetto notes that "true intimacy means standing openly with ourselves and others.

Misusing intimacy, especially sexual intimacy, relates to the ways we may separate ourselves from others, thus avoiding being absolutely present." We can then, in any moment avoid being absolutely present. This notion of separation forms a barrier, even in those moments of physical or emotional contact. Feelings or perceptions of disconnect or disunion may support notions of loneliness or isolation, they may even contribute to illness states.

While present moment may be a best, beautiful moment, fears and anxieties often intrude, and whether we like it or not, working to see them clearly to address the precepts so as to answer the question about 'what prevents us from living' is something that matters in the day to day business of living. "The key is to take an honest look at what is going on."

Related to this precept of not mis-using self or others is the thought that Ezra Bayda presents his reader in his book, At Home in the Muddy Water. He muses on several topics. One is about trust. Trust, says Bayda is "one of the trickier issues we meet in practice... When we feel betrayed by someone or something... [we] withdraw in anger... our sense of "self" has been shaken... Losing trust in someone [may set] sets off the fear of being abandoned or the fear of being overwhelmed."

What formerly held view can we then no longer support? What notion in our mind is disrupted? Often there is a strong impulse to view a person as a solid, a form if you will, to disregard the possibilities of impermanence. Observing others through our own lens, we judge them as "self." Projecting our intentions and our own motives, we think we see them. What we do see, over time, is that they are not our projections. We think that we don't then know them at all. Yet we do. Their character and unique self over time comes clearer into consciousness. "To see them with fewer filters, we feel betrayed. [And] when they don't meet our expectations... we can't trust them. In terms of their meeting our expectations, we can't."

As part of working through the most unique, personal and intimate experiences of our lives, to begin to view trust in real terms, to remain still with what arises is the willingness to just be, life as it is. Whether life conforms to our desires or not isn't the point. Life is as it is. That is the point, even if we don't like that point of life.

A Javanese Tale, the Story of Rama and Sita

This is a story about Prince Rama, the great warrior, who was married to the beautiful Sita.
Rama and Sita were really gods in human form.

Prince Rama meant to take over the throne from his father the king, but his wicked stepmother had tricked his father into sending him away into the forest. With him went his wife, Sita. Rama had begged Sita to stay safely in the palace while he stayed in the forest, but she declared it was a thousand times better to be in the forest with Rama than in the richest palace without him.

So Rama and Sita went to live in the forest together. They lived a simple, peaceful life in a small cottage.

But, before long, their peace was disturbed. One day, Sita was spotted by the demon king, Ravana. Of all the demons who lived in the forest, Ravana was the most terrible. He had twenty arms and ten heads, with eyes as red as coal fires and a mouthful of yellow fangs. When Ravana saw the beautiful Sita, he immediately came up with a plan to kidnap her and make her his wife.

One day, when Rama and Sita were walking in the forest, they saw the most beautiful deer you can imagine. Its golden hide was as bright as the sun, its silver antlers as bright as the moon, its hooves shone as black as night, and its eyes were as blue as sapphires.

So delighted was Sita when she saw the deer that she begged Rama to catch it for her. Rama was worried that this was some demon trick to try and split them up, but Sita pleaded with Rama, until he agreed to try and catch the deer for her.

As soon as Sita was alone, the demon Ravana swooped down and swept Sita up into his chariot pulled by winged monsters. Despite her terror Sita thought quickly and scattered her jewelery piece by piece - first her golden anklets, then her earrings, then her glittering scarf - as a trail for Rama to follow. Far below a white monkey looked up and, seeing the glittering jewelery, thought the stars were falling.

In the midst of the forest, Rama tracked down the beautiful deer. But when he caught hold of it, the deer changed into a terrible demon that broke away from Rama’s grasp and flew into the sky. Realizing that he had been tricked, Prince Rama ran back to the cottage as fast as he could, his heart filled with dread. Finding Sita gone, he searched frantically until he came upon the trail of jewelery that Sita had left.

Rama followed this golden trail until he met Hanuman, the white monkey, who had seen Sita’s jewelery fall from the sky. Hanuman was a very special monkey because he was the monkey king. Hanuman took Rama to the monkey city, that lay under the hills in a giant cave. All the monkeys of the city were called to the marble square in the center of the city, and messages were sent out to monkeys all over the world. They came in their millions from the woods and caves, and with them came their friends the bears. Twenty-three million animals filled the city and covered the hills like a great shaggy sea. After they had heard what had happened, they spread out to search the world for Sita.

It was the monkey, Hanuman, who came to the island where Sita was being held prisoner. The monkeys and bears with him stared in despair at the giant crashing waves that surrounded the island, but Hanuman, the son of the wind god, climbed to the highest hill, took a mighty breath and leapt into the clouds, and over the crashing waves. He landed on the island and quickly found Sita in a grove of trees near the palace. There she sat refusing to marry the evil Ravana.

Sita was overjoyed when she found out who Hanuman was and she gave him a pearl from her hair to take to Rama. Then, Hanuman bounded away to fetch Rama and Lakshmana, and the great army of monkeys and bears.

But still the giant ocean waves kept Rama and his army away from the island. And so the army began to build a bridge of rocks and grass and sand.

The squirrels came running out of the woods to help, every animal - large and small - contributed to the building, and soon the bridge stretched a hundred miles to the island, and the animals poured across their bridge.

Long and terrible was the battle, as the animals fought the evil demons. Many great deeds were done, until at last Rama faced the demon Ravana on the battlefield. With his arrows Rama struck again and again at the heads of Ravana but, each time he chopped one off, a new one grew.

Then Rama took up his special bow and arrow that had been made by the sky god. He chanted a special prayer and shot. The gods of wind and fire guided the arrow and it pierced Ravana’s chest in a blinding flash. Ravana fell dead in an instant.

The entire world rejoiced. The reign of the demons was over and Rama and Sita returned to their own country to rule. In celebration, the gods showered flowers from the sky, and the people lined the streets with flags and garlands. In every home, an oil lamp was put in the window to welcome back the Rama and Sita and their great army. The royal couple ruled happily for many years until it was time for them to leave their life on earth and return to heaven.

Source-as retold by: www.naturenest.wordpress.com
The complete story in English: Rama and Sita: A tale from Ancient Java, as told by David Wietzman