The Road Less Traveled to Tipperary.

The mortal Tipperary.

“It’s a Long Way to Tipperary.” Henry James “Harry” Williams wrote that song (heard at this link) back in 1912 and it became popular during the “War to end all wars”—WWI. 

As we know it didn’t end all wars but instead set the stage for the next World War, as all wars do. They never end, the carnage continues, unabated, and we never seem to learn the needed lessons of why wars exist at all.

The greatest war—the one that will end all wars, is an internal war (the ultimate battle) and involves identity and mis-identity: the battle between the ego (the great impostor) and our real, hidden nature that lies dormant awaiting discovery. Many great pieces of literature have been written about this internal battle, not the least of which is The Bhagavad Gita. But we, in the West, remain mostly unaware of such wisdom and thus continue fighting the wrong wars—the mortal ones—that continue forever.

I went through that internal war (as well as an external one—The Vietnam War that damaged me for the rest of my mortal life) and experienced the battle that awakened me to the real, hidden me, but it was a Long Way to Tipperary—that stretched from my ordinary road of seeking fleeting mortal success, hitting the road-bump that brought into question that pursuit, arrived at the critical juncture of choosing to stay on that road to nowhere (with utter familiarity) or going down that other road to fear, trembling, ego confrontation, THE battle, and final victory. 

It wasn’t fun and honestly, there were many times when I asked myself “what the hell have I gotten myself into?” Tipperary, in this case, was finding that internal, hidden treasure. After that, I reached another crossroads and had to choose again, which road I would follow, and which I would thus leave behind. What I never considered when I made the first choice to travel that road less traveled was there were some really bad demons waiting to ambush me down that path,  and facing and regurgitating all of the misery I had buried within. 

But to get to the hidden treasure, by necessity, entailed reaching further, down into the deepest mud of consciousness, where both the demons and the angels co-existed. I had no other choice than the one that led to the ever-increasing internal space of darkness. Consequently, it was a dice-roll with both demons and angels coming along as a package deal, at the same time. And eventually, these splitting paths came out onto a meadow: a point of union, that was bathed in pure, vibrant light. But when that battle first began, I didn't know convergence would ever occur.  Thus the lid on Pandora’s Box was thrown open and the demons attacked with a vengeance.

I came to know, gradually, that the previous pursuit—the ordinary mortal one—was leading me step by step to complete despair and the inescapable conclusion that I had invested 40 years of my life building a castle in the sky. I had a lot of skin in that game and it was extraordinarily hard to fess up to making wrong choices. My ego hated that confession (it never wants to acknowledge error and doubles down with the mantra of “if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again”) and if I had been willing to see clearly earlier I would have come to that juncture sooner. 

But I didn’t but bought into that programmed mantra. After all, a Marine never quits, and sadly most never know when to quit. Sometimes it is better to retreat and fight another day. The question is not to fight (or not) but rather the question is choosing the right war to fight. It’s the same for us all. Which one do we choose? The one that never ends? Or the war that will end all wars and does lead to Tipperary. But, the road to that meadow of light had to go through darkness and into a new world!

When enough is enough? And the tragedy of perfection.

The surface and the deep

The idea of life as a journey has merit and deserves thoughtful consideration. A journey begins and proceeds step by step: one step begins, ends, and is followed by the next, which likewise leads to the next until the journey ends. 

Each moment proceeds in the same fashion. With foresight, patience, and endurance achievement is possible. The great tragedy is expecting perfection with each and every step. In a way each step is perfect; it is enough (for that moment).

The Buddha said, “There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting.”  The starting has much to say about the motivation to go at all. Many have no hope. Others become complacent with their bird in hand. Some expect magic of the divine, and still, others lack confidence and fear the risk of the unknown.

It is indeed somewhat terrifying to leap into the unknown when all seems well; when we have ours and others don’t. It is human nature (unfortunately) to take the unexpected treasure we’ve found and run, leaving others to find their own. However, if we are the one who lives in misery and have not yet found that treasure, the story is different. Then the motivation changes from satisfaction to a desire for the hidden treasure others have found, and we have not. 

For most of human history the masses have lived in misery without ever having leaped into the great sea of the unknown; the sea where “things” morph into “no-things:” the only realm where true satisfaction exists, ultimate wisdom and truth reside. The two realms of things and no-things coexist, one upon the other, yet the misery of conditional life remains the province of the known, where truth is a variable bouncing like a ball on the waves of that great ocean. Beneath; deep beneath the waves of adversity is the calm, the tranquil, the root of all that exists above.

“All mortal things have a beginning, and an ending.” Each step, each moment, every-thing; All things are enough; all things are perfect, and yet all things exist together, resting upon the deep of a nothing, which is no mere nothing; It is everything.

Standing on our heads

Duality is a mental divide—the conclusive belief that one thing is separate and different from something else. From within the realm of external “normal life,” it is impossible to deny that things are different and separate; thus, discrimination (and corresponding judgments) has become normal and conflicts inevitable.

Buddhism has long taught a different message—Unity of all things. From the perspective of normal life this seems absurd and impractical. Our eyes alone tell us that such a premise is flawed. But Buddhism asks no one to accept what appears illogical, so where is the missing logic? 

The logic is that “All things are unified”, even the things which are not apparent. What the eye can’t see is still there, regardless of our inability to see them. Our eye sees a very limited range of energy. X-rays are not visible. Infrared is not visible. Ultraviolet is not visible. Would we include these invisible forms of light in “all things”? Likewise we can’t see space but we exist within space every moment of our lives. The list might go on but the point is that we trust our perceptions too much and assume that what we can’t see doesn’t exist.

Nagarjuna helped our understanding of this seeming anomaly by pointing out that we live in two realms at once, and referred to these two realms as The Two Truth Doctrine. The two realms he spoke of are the Conventional and the Sublime. The Conventional realm is of course our normally perceived realm and the Sublime realm is our imperceptible realm. The nature of these two realms is the flip-side of the other and together they make up one indivisible true nature of us all.

The context of the conventional realm is completely illusive and the context of the sublime realm is completely fixed. These different contexts define whatever exists within those contexts. It would be irrational to suggest that something could be fixed if the context is illusive. It would be equally irrational to suggest that something could be illusive if the context is fixed. The nature of the context limits and defines whatever exists in that realm.

Thus what appears normal and concrete within our “normal life” is anything but concrete since the context is illusive. We take it for granted that an ego (a self-image) is concrete. We take it for granted that a mind is concrete, but if we accept the illusive nature of our “normal life,” how is such a thing possible? And to assume that our true nature (discernable only within the sublime realm) doesn’t exist, is likewise impossible since that context is fixed.

Of course there are those who argue that this Buddhist view is wrongheaded—That the context of our normal life is fixed and that there is no such thing as a sublime realm, so how could a non-existent realm have a context? Perhaps we can better understand why our world is so messed up by understanding how wrongheaded this wrongheaded perspective is.