The opening hand of faith.

Many years ago, my teacher said that the process of awakening was like a hand that begins with a fist of fear and over time, through persistence and cleansing, opens like a morning blossom emitting fragrance and love…and then it becomes a fist again. This opening and closing continues time and again until one day, your hand remains open, fear no longer reigns, and you stay open, exposed, and vulnerable yet a blessing to the world. Then you are a suffering servant (e.g., Bodhisattva).

Tibetan Buddhist teacher and author Pema Chödrön puts it this way: “We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together, and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen—room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.” 

Our hand opens when we feel safe and closes again when we sense fear approaching. Having neither optimistic nor pessimistic expectations are accepting the reality of life. There is room for it all. 

And one final observation: The cycle of opening and closing happens on a mortal level, yet when we truly awaken, the immortal part of us neither opens nor closes. Ordinarily, while awake during the day, we can open or close our eyes, but the eye of awakening to immortality is always on. Like a mirror, consciousness just is, reflecting whatever comes. It is fear and ignorance that clouds clarity and distorts true understanding.

The New Normal

The best and worst of times.

If a person is born into bondage and is never exposed to anything other than bondage, they won’t know they are in bondage. Instead, they will accept their condition as ordinary. Only one who has become set free will be able to look back into the time when they were imprisoned and know the difference. 

But this escape to emancipation presumes the person desires something better. “Something better” will remain a rational illusion. This hope will never get out of that box unless the person accepts the possibility, however small, that the vision may have an element of worth and be reasonably likely. Having a sense of being normal is a two-edged sword: It may provide a sense of communion with others in the same condition, but it does not hold out a carrot for a better way.

Plato’s Cave (e.g., The Allegory of the Cave) is a story from Book VII in the Greek philosopher masterpiece The Republic, written in 517 BCE. The cave allegory tells of prisoners, chained since childhood, in a position within a cave so they can see nothing except shadows of themselves projected onto the cave wall in front of them. Consequently, the prisoners have no sense of anything other than the shadowy illusions before them and come to think of the shadows as their normal world-view. 

Few escape to learn the truth and when confronted with the difference between reality and falsehood, the few choose their ordinary falsehood—to which they have grown accustomed—over what is real, yet foreign. A key point in the story is that people prefer old norms over new ones, even when the new is real. 

While written 2,537 years ago, this story resonates with the convictions of “fake news” of today and echos the principle of a psychological back-fire effect. Nothing is more powerful than belief, even when such belief is false, which says much about attempting to persuade those away from false convictions. They will harden their convictions in the face of evidence to the contrary. Human nature changes little over the span of time. Tightly held beliefs “Trump” the hand of truth nearly every time.

That is indeed a thorny conundrum, particularly when the very thought of ordinary is becoming abnormal. Such is the case today when everything ordinarily considered to be normal has been turned on its head. One of the few advantages of being old is a perspective that comes with the passage of time and changing circumstances. If you live long enough, you’ll have lived through a range of conditions that provides a frame of reference that is lacking without tenure, and that gives you a memory of the way things could be, but aren’t.

Without expressing a cliche, the times in which we are living are unlike any within my lifetime. And I am not alone in that observation. Our times are an admixture of the best, and the worst, much like Charles Dickens wrote of in his Tale Of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” On the one hand, we are advancing so fast that the technology we create is obsolete as soon as it comes off the line. On the other hand, we seem to be unraveling as a human society even faster.

A while ago, a political commentary appeared in the Huffington Post, that contained the following: “What used to be the lunatic fringe is now called the House of Representatives. And what used to be at least controversial is now the mainstream.” 

In just a flash of yesterdays, has emerged a man as the most powerful leader of the Western World. This would have seemed impossible only a short time ago. No longer. Now an entire political party champions a man who is an acknowledged pathological liar, peddler of vile racism, a misogynist, cheerleader of xenophobic ravings, and sneering trampler of those who disagrees with him, not to mention our most fundamental American values.

The mood of the American public is, to put it in superlative terms, explosive. And, from a particular perspective, understandable when we consider how dysfunctional our cherished government has become. Time after time, our elected officials have danced to a drummer of self-serving greed with little, if any, responsiveness to the wishes of the constituents who elected them. Now we almost expect another week (or day) of “normal” chaos, violence, and behavior that used to be routinely unacceptable. And to add insult to injury, our elected officials are experts at one thing only: Nothing. And in consideration of such a state, it would be delusional to not expect anarchy. The new normal of today has become the abnormal of yesterday. And if it is true (and it is) that our tomorrows are the result of thoughts and actions taken today, it is terrifying what tomorrow will bring.

Surrendering from vengeance.

Tit-for-Tat

Quite a while back I wrote of post called, “Surrendering from inflexible positions” and a reader responded with a suggestion that I write about surrendering from vengeance. I didn’t take the advice at the time but given the current state of affairs, with so much at stake, maybe it’s time to track this human tendency through to its logical conclusion. 

I don’t have much wisdom to offer on the topic since the downside seems rather obvious. However, since the dominant forces today seem locked into this pattern of back and forth violence, perhaps the downside isn’t so obvious after all. Antifa and White Supremacy have locked horns with clear political spin. Curiously, Antifa is getting labeled as “radical socialists.” Nothing could be further from the truth, but nowadays political spin outranks truth. 

And then I recently wrote about the findings of Peter Cathcart Wason, the English cognitive psychologist, who discovered that we humans are much more interested in our egoistic desires to protect our preconceived opinions than to seek truth. So maybe vengeance has more to do with covering our vested flanks than anything else. If so, then this post probably won’t succeed in chipping away at that crusty vest. We seem to be slow learners and our collective ignorance leads us all to more suffering.

In one of my books, More Over, I wrote about this idea called kleshas (or afflictions; causes of suffering). The five following kleshas were described by Patanjali at the beginning of Book 2 of the Yoga Sutra (1, 2, 4). So I don’t claim any special knowledge. I just took the time to read because learning about the causes of suffering seemed like a good thing to do. When these kleshas are laid out end-to-end the logic of vengeance can be fathomed.

The first of the kleshas was called ignorance of the true nature of reality (avidya in Sanskrit). However, Patanjali’s perspective here is contrary to Mark Twain’s advice who said: “To succeed in life, you need two things: ignorance and confidence.” Perhaps so, but thus far evidence is lacking.  Then comes misidentification (asmita), attachment (raga), anger following a loss (dvesha), and finally misunderstanding life and death (abhinivesha). Having identified these five, Patanjali makes it simpler yet by saying that all of these five are contained in the first: ignorance of the true nature of reality. 

As a human species, this simplicity seems to be lost since we proceed to go forward with this tit-for-tat practice of violence (otherwise called vengeance). The downside is rather simple when viewed in terms of one person in a relationship with another. If someone strikes you, the immediate response is to strike back. This response leads to their response to a strike back at you, and this unending pattern leads to where we are today: nowhere. The lure to right all wrongs is magnetic and we gnash our teeth struggling to find wisdom for solutions to raging conflicts around the world. The carnage is unquestionably awful but the essential question is this: How does meeting violence with more violence lead to anything other than more responsive violence? 

According to Patanjali, the entire flawed tendency can be reduced down to the first klesha: a misunderstanding of the true nature of reality. The untrue nature of reality is what we have today (and apparently have had all the way back to a beginningless beginning) and that understanding is that every person on earth, and beyond, views him or her self as purely an individual with no meaningful connection. We have a term that fits the bill for this view. It’s called mutual discretion and is the basis of the entirety of human failings.

Just for the sake of consideration, let’s think about the consequences of this view. If I am mutually discrete from you, then I will do as Patanjali suggests and misidentify myself (and you, and all others) as an image, which we call a self-image (otherwise known as ego). The nature of an image is unreal and the nature of the ego is individual self-preservation. And we have an infinite number of ways of preserving a separate self. The number one way is to attach our sense of identity to stuff we like (power, material possessions, other people, ad infinitum) and bulwark ourselves from stuff we dislike. The problem is that stuff doesn’t stand still. It moves and changes, one moment here, gone the next. And with the demise of what we have clung to (or resisted, which has the nasty tendency to find its way to us anyway) comes a sense of loss or precarious identity, self-worth and power. Then we get royally ticked off, blame others for our pain, and strike back at the perceived source of our suffering, thus vengeance.

So if that is the pattern (and who can deny that it is) then what’s the alternative? Simple: That we are not, at the core,  mutually discrete. Feedback loops define our existence  Instead we are essentially united with everything. That, of course, is easy to say and very difficult to experience. Just saying it is not enough. Unity must be experienced to be of any worth, otherwise, it remains a figment of our imagination. The experience of unity is what goes by the handle of transformation or enlightenment: where the sense of being an individual, separate identity melts into an irrevocable unity with everything. And when that happens the image we previously held of ourselves (self-image) evaporates into thin air.

From that point forward vengeance becomes an impossible matter because we realize that striking another, or destroying our world, is the same as destroying ourselves and we come to understand, in a new way, a commandment offered by Jesus when asked which commandment was the greatest. He answered by saying, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.”

There is just one tiny, yet all-important issue here. All of these: God, soul, mind, neighbor, and self are single, never born, never die, united entity. If this is not so, then the commandment falls apart and we are left with mutual discretion, all of us claiming, with self-righteous indignation, that individually each of us is justified in preserving our egocentric identity and never-ending vengeance continues forever. The arms race never ends, nor does the associated cost in blood and money.

Poisonous Children

In Buddhist thought, a poisonous monster lives inside each of us and it has three characteristics—greed, anger, and delusion (or ignorance). The name of this monster is our “precious” ego, the mythical surrogate we all create to identify ourselves. I say precious with tongue in cheek because this is the mother of all sorrow. 

It appears precious until we understand it’s phantom nature. It is who we think we are and we defend it to the death. Different religions refer to ego death as the necessary condition for final liberation—being set free to experience fundamental humanity. Christianity calls this experience being “reborn” (sadly misunderstood) and the mystical arm of Christianity refers to this state as “the dark night of the soul,” the darkness everyone must pass through on the way to freedom. 

The soul is a term, which is often used to describe the ego. When Gautama was enlightened he realized his true nature and came to understand that the ego was not real. He saw it for what it is: an idea rather than something real, and along with his enlightenment, he understood the source of suffering—the idea of ego. If you wanted to reduce Buddhism down to a single statement (which would be a gross devaluation) you could call it the solution for overcoming suffering. I’ll explain:

We have a sight challenge: We can’t see our true, immaculate self. The truth is we can’t see each other either. What I see when I look at you is your outer skin—call it a cloak. And since that is what we can see, we think of a person (including ourselves) as a body, only. But none of us is stupid. We know we are more than just a bag of bones. We know that there is someone inside that bag and we call that inside dimension by a name—“our self.” Unfortunately, this our self is just another cloak, an inside cloak that conceals our true identity. So why don’t we see this identity behind the cloak? The answer is simple (but not so obvious). We don’t see the real us because our true identity can’t be seen, but it’s there in spite of our sight challenge. If it weren’t there we couldn’t see anything because our true self is what’s doing the seeing and it’s called consciousness. Consciousness at its simplest is “awareness or sentience of internal or external existence.”

What can we see? We can see objects. What can’t we see? We can’t see the subjects. Anyone who has studied grammar is taught the difference between an object and a subject. If I write the sentence “I see myself,” the “I” would refer to the subject, and “myself” would be the object. But there is a subtle problem with such a sentence (and a clue). Is it possible for a subject to be an object? Isn’t that sentence illogical? Think about it. Either they are different or they are the same thing with an illusion of difference.

Our real nature is not an object, like a stone—which can’t see. When we objectify anything we devalue it, stripping it of fundamental humanity. We are not only objects. We are not an idea. We are real beings, an incarnate spirit with two dimensions, one part of which can be seen and one part that can’t. These two parts can’t be divided. If our spirit is removed we’ll just be a bag of bones. If our body is removed we’ll be a ghost. We may talk as if they can be divided but such thinking is delusional. And there is an inherent awareness in us all that knows this truth, but it is such a vaporous aspect that it goes beyond our detection. 

It is a conundrum, which produces the three, poisons of greed, anger, and delusion. Why? Because “We”—the real us—wants desperately to be set free and it makes us angry that we can’t find the solution! We are in prison—a prison of our own making—and we can’t find our way out, and the keys to that prison are held by Mr. or Mrs. Ego (the gatekeeper of our prison) who is extremely greedy; who wants to possess and defend; who clings to everything desirable and rebuffs everything deemed as undesirable. Our ego judges with a criterion of objectivity—what it can perceive. If I look good, that is desirable. If I look bad, that is undesirable. If you act well, that is desirable. If you act poorly, that is undesirable. We judge based on our capacity to perceive, not what we can’t perceive.

Since it is impossible to see the real us, we all create a surrogate identity that can be seen. And this surrogate is fabricated (clothed) with a vast wardrobe of ideas, judgments, and points of discrimination. We objectify ourselves and in the process strip ourselves of human dignity. Ego is like a hologram—an image in our mind (a self-image), which we watch with our mind’s eye. We can see this hologram twist and turn, to reach out and be reached at. It is amorphous and in constant motion, subject to both assaults, and adoration.

The ego hates to be assaulted (and become easily offended) and loves to be adored. When we are assaulted we naturally take offense and when we are adored, we love it and gravitate to the one who expresses love. We are yo-yos on the string of life. And you know what ticks us off the most? That we see this manipulation happening and seem powerless to stop it! And that makes us really sad or mad! And then we take the next step: we then learn to hate our self for being so powerless and vulnerable. 

The downward spiral—which in the grand scheme is a very good spiral. Why? Because it hurts so badly and we hate pain. Pain is really our friend. It tells us something is wrong that needs fixing and if we humans are nothing more, we are fixers and very inventive. But what is generally missing is motivation. Suffering supplies motivation.

Suffering is our friend. It is something we experience inside. It is not an outside condition. It happens inside—it is a response (an effect) not a cause. And who causes this response? Our suffering is not caused by another nor experienced by them. It is caused by our response, not by outer circumstances, which can never be altered. And who is behind our responses? Why the keeper of the prison keys—Ego (our surrogate self). Ego is the source of our sorrow; our suffering, and since it is the source, it is there we must turn for a solution. 

Our system is an amazingly delicate instrument with all manner of built-in sensors designed to warn us of impending disaster. When we are being affected by a virus we start to feel poorly and we go to the doctor. When we are not feeling well emotionally we also seek out a doctor. But sadly today’s doctors of emotions either drug us to not feel the pain or reinforce our self-image so that we think better of our ego. These approaches only partially help, but unfortunately, they work to remove our motivation to reach beyond the illusion and find our true substance. Consequently, we never remove the cancerous seed but instead just slap on another band-aid.

Ego is a toxic substance, that produces emotional disease, which is why these children of ego are called the three poisons. Greed, anger, and delusion are toxic children and the only solution to this poisoning is to vanquish the internal creator-mother—the ego and allow our natural goodness to emerge. The answer is not to bolster our self-image or anesthetize suffering but is rather to vaporize the mother—to see it as the phantom that it is.

Meister Eckhart—Christian Mystic and prophet (circa 1260-1329)—said:

“Humanity in the poorest and most despised human being is just as complete as in the Pope or the Emperor.” And we know what sort of clothing the Emperor wears—none.

Fundamental humanity is not flawed in any way. It is complete already. The flaw is what stands in the way of our human birthright that puts one head above another. At the ground level of our humanity, we are equal and good, whether Pope, Emperor, Buddha, or an average person.

Identity?

The dissolving ego.

The last two posts (Karma and the Wheel of Life and Death and Karma and The Wheel of Dharma) were critical in understanding how we get into on-going trouble and how to get emancipated. Both messages may have seemed arcane and esoteric. I am aware of the difficulty, particularly among Western audiences, when coming to terms with the essential aspects of these messages. For that reason, I employed metaphors of dust and viruses. 

However, the wisdom contained in these two is so important that I want to go to the heart of the teaching, pull out the core, and do a summation, in layman’s terms. What lies at the core of them both is how we understand our human nature. Everyone, in all times and places, develops a sense of who they are, who others are, how we regard our self-understanding, and what this means to our place in the world. The admonition of the Golden Rule:  “So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets,” is not incorrect. However, essential to that teaching takes us to the core of not only that teaching, but also to the core of the last two posts. Do we hate ourselves? Love ourselves? Think we are God’s gift to the world? Or perhaps a piece of crap. Whatever self-view we possess determines how we treat others and what we expect from them. Any and all, unenlightened view of ourselves, boils down to one simple principle, and how we understand that principle: Ego.

I could readily quote innumerable passages from exalted Zen Masters that speak to this matter of ego and self-understanding, but not now. If you are interested in that sort of presentation, you can click on the “SEO keyword” ego, located at the bottom of this post, and it will take you to numerous other posts about this matter of a deluded idea of who we are. Today, however, I want to speak in common terms that anyone can understand if they are so inclined. I will take you to the waters, but I can’t make you drink.

So what exactly is an “ego” and how does it make a difference, to ourselves, to others, and to the world. The word, in all languages and traditions, means “I,” not any “I” but the honest, in-the-dark-of-night “I,” when it is still, and nobody is watching. In that darkness, nobody is observing us, there is nobody to impress or be persuaded, and there is just you, in the dark, alone with your own thoughts—which could keep you awake at night. Our egos are a corrupted notion that we all create to identify ourselves. It is formed, shaped, refined, and comes to be essential to everything we say and do. Importantly, the ego is an idea, an image of self (self-image) that depends on many inputs. Those inputs come from family, friends, teachers, significant others—many, many sources, over a long period of time.

In the simplest of terms, it boils down to building an identity out of bricks of clay. And perhaps the most important of those bricks come early in life—how we were treated as children by those in whom we were most vested: those that mattered most—our family and/or the people we trusted and considered significant to our wellbeing. If those treated us kindly, we developed a good sense of ourselves. If they treated us badly, we developed a poor sense of ourselves. And those initial building blocks served as the foundation of what followed, which may, or may not, have reinforced those initial ideas. But even at a young age, what we came to think of ourselves, determined how we behaved and the feed-back we received resulting from that behavior. “As you think, so shall you become.”  That principle is universal, and you can find it presented from many sources.

Let’s take the next step in this progression. Suppose our significant, trusted people, critical to shaping those initial building blocks, treated us kindly. In such a case, our ego-sense becomes attached to those people, and then something terrible happens: They die or go away. What then happens is devastating to our mental/emotional wellbeing: We suffer. On the other hand, consider the opposite—We are treated poorly (and we come to regard ourselves poorly), nevertheless becoming attached to our own, now-ingested opinion, set in motion by those people. Both of these are forms of attachment, and they are both just ideas (images if you prefer). In the first case, we have attached to what we like, and in the other case, we are attached to what we don’t like.

Life is a moving ship on a body of water, that changes with the tides of life. Up and down, the waves move, and our egos bounce like a cork on the surface. There is no stability with that arrangement—only turbulence. What we fail to consider is what lies beneath those changing waves; at the sea bottom where nothing changes. That analogy is not about turbulent water or the bottom of the sea. It concerns identity, changing, or not. At the base depths of our thinking mind is the subconscious mind; way down there where our thoughts are “out of sight/out of mind.” Only they are never out of mind. They have just moved from our conscious/thinking mind into our subconscious mind, but they never leave. In that universal way, we are all trapped; some thinking poorly of themselves and others thinking they are superior to others.

What the quests for our true (not imagined) self entails is plunging, through whatever came before: the entire, cumulative formation of the ego, to the depths of our souls, and experiencing—not thinking—our genuine Self. This pathway is not one of rational thinking but is instead a transforming, intimately personal Spiritual experience. And when I say, “Spiritual,” I do not mean a religious one. I do mean the genuine experience of your very own spirit, that has no clothing, no identity, no “ego,” no anything. You then wake up (e.g., the term “Buddha” means awaken) to an indiscriminate, universal unity with all, that is not an isolated “you” but is the same as everyone else. In that spiritual realm, there is not an iota of difference between you and anyone, regardless of whatever bodily differences, or idea you may hold of yourself. Then you are a true man (or woman) with rank. 

The ego, at that moment, evaporates like the disappearance of mist upon the rising of the sun, and you realize the one doing the quest is one and the same as the one being sought after. And at that moment, that comes like a flash of lightning, your entire understanding changes radically—the self is transformed into Self as a worm is transformed into a butterfly. And then you have returned to a non-identity that never left.

Ignorant armies of the night.

In 2002, authors Wayne Gray and Christian Schunn published an article in the Proceedings of the Twenty-Fourth Annual Conference of the Cognitive Science Society, titled “Does Positivity Bias Explain Patterns of Performance on Wason’s 2-4-6 task?” 

The Wason being referenced was Peter Cathcart Wason, an English cognitive psychologist at University College in London. Wason was interested in the psychology of reason and was particularly concerned with why people make certain consistent mistakes in logical reasoning. 

One of his research projects was the 2-4-6 task referred to in the article written by Gray and Schuun. That project addressed preconceived notions, personal beliefs, and hypotheses affecting rational thinking. Out of this work, the term “confirmation bias” was formed, which in essence, proved that people tend to filter reality through lenses that reinforce tightly held convictions. Wason concluded that people are far less concerned with truth than they were with finding evidence to support their beliefs, true or not.

On the psychological flip side lies the “backfire effect;” the tendency to defend those tightly held convictions. In many cases (if not most) people will fight to the end to defend those convictions (even when their views are self-destructive). I have never met a single person who believed their actions were based on wrong views. Yet the state of world affairs proves there are actions (based on wrong views) that are destructive to themselves and others. Swaying hearts and minds is a tough task for a simple reason: Close mindedness—the defense of the ego.

In essence, Wason proved the human tendency for choosing ignorance and, in particular the desire for being right, at all costs—the expected outcome of an out of control ego (the misidentification of the self). In a short-handed, everyday way of understanding, the perception of we humans is distorted. Most everyone is looking through “Rose-colored glasses,” only in some cases, the glasses are not so rosy. A term that further explains this psychological inclination is vested interests. We don’t see the world as it is but instead view life in ways that ensure the protection of selfish concerns, in other words, “Greed.”

The picture above (and accompanying words) is the ending stanza of the short lyric poem Dover Beach by the English poet Matthew Arnold. It was first published in 1867 in the collection of New Poems. The metaphor contained within this last stanza is an allusion to a passage in Thucydides’s account of the Peloponnesian War. Thucydides describes the ancient battle that occurred at night, and in the darkness, the attacking army became disoriented, and many of their soldiers inadvertently killed each other. Critics, interpreting the poem, have suggested the metaphor expressed Arnold’s central understanding of the plight of the human condition.

Considering the state of current world affairs, it’s easy to agree with the research of Wason, the poetic conclusions of Arnold and wisdom of The Buddha: We see what we want to see. What we don’t see is the world as Suchness: a heaven on earth that is being turned into a Hell on earth by ignorant armies of the night. It is the fear of suffering that clouds our eyes.

Ajita asked: “What is it that smothers the world and makes it so hard to see? What is it that pollutes the world and seems to threaten it?” The Buddha answered: “It is ignorance that smothers, and it is carelessness and greed that makes it invisible. The hunger of craving pollutes the world, and the pain of suffering causes the greatest fear.”
—Sutta Nipata

Transitions

Which way to go?

“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.”—Alexander Graham Bell.

In a lifetime we go thru many transitions, beginning with dependency as a child, progressing into independency, and then returning to dependency again in old age. We thus move from need thru want and back to need again. Moving through these transitions can feel disorienting and filled with crises. I am now in the autumn of my mortal life, and like all mortal beings was born and will die one day. However, during my life-span I’ve picked up some bits of wisdom that allow me to not fear death and to welcome crisis.

The first bit concerns the Chinese language which is composed of two parts. One part deals with surface stuff and the other part is concerned with meaning. A word in English, such as crisis, means something simple like “danger” but in Chinese it means both danger and opportunity, at the same time: One door closing and another opening.

It’s human nature, as we transition from one relationship foundation to another, to experience crisis, interpret it as danger and react in ways that destroys what was, in order to enter into a new foundation, sort of like needing to clean out a closet before hanging up new clothing. It is neither good nor bad but we can see it as only loss unless we are careful and understand what is happening.

Another bit of wisdom I collected during my Zen days, concerns the process of moving through these doors. It feels threatening to leave one known-thing behind (even if it doesn’t serve us) and leap into the unknown. And then we go through a cycle, that begins with understanding our deepest human nature and grasping a principle not well known in the Western world. That principle is called “Dependent Origination.”

It is a foundational principle of everything and says simply that nothing exists independently. Independence Day is a delusion: Something our leaders desperately need to keep in mind as they make international trade deals. Responsive feedbacks can be a killer! When one thing comes into existence, the opposite comes into existence at the same time and place. There are two sides to everything. Nothing lacks perceptible qualities and thus can’t be seen. Why? Because anything that is unconditional, like nothingness (e.g., lacking conditions) has no discriminate properties. Only conditional things have discriminate properties. Our outer, mortal nature is perceptible, but our inner immortal nature is not. 

Immortally we are whole, complete, and perfect already, and is the unseen part of you and me. Immortality is our spiritual core and it is the everything/nothing part of you and me. And furthermore, mortality and immortality are irrevocably joined together. The union can’t be broken just like an up/down union can’t be broken. If we tried to do away with one side, the other side would cease to exist, at least conditionally.

The father of Zen, Bodhidharma, cast this relationship between the seen and the unseen in his Wake Up Sermon as follows:

“What mortals see are delusions. True vision is detached from seeing. The mind and the world are opposites, and vision arises where they meet. When your mind doesn’t stir inside, the world doesn’t arise outside. When the world and the mind are both transparent, this is true vision. And such understanding is true understanding.”

The conditional part of anything is divided between polar opposites and subject to cause and effect (e.g., karma). The unconditional part is unified and not subject to anything. Conditions change. Immortality (e.g., no conditions) doesn’t change.

Why do we suffer, and find it hard to know what is true? The Buddha and ancient yogis boiled it down to what was known as “kleshas”⎯Sanskrit, meaning causes of affliction. And there were five inter-related kleshas, the first of which was ignorance of our true reality, believing that the eternal is temporary, the pure is impure, and pleasure is sure to be painful. This false representation of reality was understood as the root klesha that produced the other four. When our true reality is experienced, we are set free from mental bondage we don’t even know exists. And when our understanding is distorted, the other four kleshas follow, and they are:

“I-am-ness”⎯The identification of ourselves with our ego. We create a self-image of ourselves that we believe is us, but it is not us. And this misidentification results in three mental poisons of greed, anger, and ignorance.
“Attachment”⎯The attraction for things that brings satisfaction to our false sense of ego-self. Our desire for pleasurable experiences creates mindless actions and blind-sighted vision. To a narcissist, this seems perfectly normal. When we can’t obtain what we desire, we suffer. When we do obtain what we desire, our feelings of pleasure soon fade and we begin our search for pleasure again.
“Repulsion”⎯The opposite of attachment; aversion towards things that produce unpleasant experiences. If we can’t avoid the things we dislike, we suffer. Even thinking about unpleasant experiences produces suffering, which lies at the root of PTSD. I recently went through this on the 4th of July when all of the painful memories of my war experiences came rushing back, full force.
“Will to live”⎯The deepest and most universal klesha, remaining with us until our natural, mortal deaths. We know that one day we will indeed die, yet our fear of death is deeply buried in our unconsciousness.

There is no remedy to this cycle of suffering without first dealing with the number one klesha—that of understanding our true, unified reality. When, and if we do, then the other four become unraveled and fall apart.

What I’m trying to say is this: The real part of you is the same real part of me; there is no difference, and it is that part that goes through all transitions, even the one of mortal death. It is our spiritual being, living within our mortal shell. Reality can’t be anything less than whole, complete and perfect—which by the way does not mean without mortal flaw, at least not in the original language. Perfection means “arrived, or the end result” and when anyone arrives at this understanding of our true, unchanging nature, we discover we have never left and there is nowhere to go without being there already.

Closing one door, in transitioning, is not to be feared. It is to be welcomed because without closing that door, we won’t go through the one that is always open to us. I know it is hard to let go of what was (the past) and getting old (which really sucks, mortally) requires that we adapt and change away from want and accept, without complaint, need. I am now fully in my mortal autumn and am very clear about mortal needing.

I keep a poem by Rumi pinned to my refrigerator door to remind me of how to go through the mortal crisis. It is called The Guest house.

“This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.”

The high price of choice: winning battles, losing wars.

My way or the highway?

The boundary line between sleep and wakefulness is anything but clear. Ordinarily, we think we know the difference. When sleeping, sometimes we dream, and it isn’t clear. But when we wake up, we say to ourselves, “Oh, that was just a dream.”  

Dreams can seem very real and sometimes terrifying. Research has shown that between 25% to 50% of people die while asleep. While not conclusive, evidence suggests that little difference exists between such things as heart rate, blood pressure, anxiety states, and stress hormones produced due to wakeful states of stress and sleep states of stress. The body doesn’t distinguish. Our reasoning is that one state (wakeful state of consciousness) is real, while the sleep state is not. 

To fathom the Buddhist understanding of highest, or ultimate reality, it is necessary to come to terms with the basis of differentiation. And when this is explored the conclusion is that the vast majority of the human race is never awake but is instead in a state of perpetual sleep, not knowing the difference between reality and unreality. 

To unlock this mystery, we need to examine this matter of discrimination. Why do we see things as mutually discrete and different? Isn’t it sufficient that they appear that way? Things are different, at least perceptually. We see, smell, taste, feel, hear, and imagine them as being different and mutually discrete. How could it be otherwise? That alone should justify discrimination—shouldn’t it?

According to the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, this is seeing only one half of the picture—and not the important half—of reality which is transcendent to perception. There is a state of consciousness, referred to as the highest (or ultimate reality) where all differences do not appear. It is not a state based on normal means of perception but is rather experienced intuitively. It is the root consciousness from which all perception arises. This state is not determined logically, accessed philosophically, or described by words or other symbols. It’s discerned directly—by-passing all conditions which restrict and limit reality. In this sense, it could be said that discrimination both exists and it doesn’t exist.

At the level of conditioned, mutually discrete life, which we routinely enjoy, there is no question that discrimination (e.g., differentiation) exists. Objectively things are perceived to be different, and it is impossible to avoid making judgments and expressing preferences about these objective forms. And from the basis of unconditional, the highest reality, it is equally clear that discrimination does not exist. 

At this level, all objective forms simply don’t exist. So, on the one hand, we perceive differences, make preferences, fight over such differences, and are unavoidably trapped by the choices we make—as a monkey reaching into a jar with a narrow neck to latch onto a piece of food with a closed fist. The only way the monkey can become released is to let go of the food, relax the fist, and withdraw its hand. On the other hand, we can see that there is ultimately only unity where discrimination-based choice is pointless. If there is no difference (and we imagine that there is), we live in a dream world, believing that differences are real, making choices based on that imaginary dream, and paying the karmic price.

While this view of reality may seem strange, it is eminently practical. When we see responsive, feed-back violence occurring around us, we need to take a step out of the fray and notice that no one is winning. That should be our clue to which state of consciousness is prevailing. It doesn’t necessarily mean we can step out of the unreality of our realm of perception and into the ultimate realm, but it will alert us to the price we will pay by continuing to fight battles and lose the ultimate war. 

Each side can justify retributive responsiveness. The question is always, who started it, and how do differences fit with our preconceived convictions—who took the first shot? This line of argument can be (and often is) taken all the way back to the beginning of beginningless time. In The Lanka, the Buddha, correctly points out that in the realm of ultimate reality there is no cause and effect which functions within ordinary, objective life. Cause and effect, like all of ordinary life, is an illusion with roots in our mind. One way leads to a never-ending cycle of winning battles, losing wars, suffering, and the other leads to compassion, harmony, and tranquility. The choice is always before us, and we must accept the benefits and consequences of our choices. Karmic results are unavoidable in the realm of one opposed to another. While asleep, we are all monkeys; trapped by our grasping.

The true you and me.

The Ancient Greek aphorism to “know thyself” is familiar even today. Most people throughout time and place believe they know themselves and can go to great length to describe their attributes, personality characteristics, along with strengths and weaknesses. Of course, as we age our comfort with these definitions changes and we seem to have an evolving self that morphs as the world changes around us. In that sense we seem lost to the vagaries of life, and are like sponges, soaking up the dimensions of our conditional world and that method is the standard way of “knowing ourselves.”

There is, however, another way of coming to self-understanding that was articulated by The Buddha in the Śūraṅgama Sūtra. The dialogue in this sūtra is between The Buddha and his cousin, Ananda. And one of the principal teachings in the sūtra concerns this alternative way of knowing. In the process of the ensuing conversation, The Buddha identifies two types of minds; one that leads to unending suffering and the other that leads to genuine self-understanding. Here is what is said:

“The Buddha then compounds his cousin’s confusion by stating that there are fundamentally two kinds of mind:

Ananda, what are the two fundamentals? 

1. The first is the mind that is the basis of death and rebirth and has continued for the entirety of time, which has no beginning. This mind is dependent upon perceived objects, and it is this that you and all beings make use of and that each of you considers to be your own nature.
2. The second fundamental is enlightenment, which has no beginning; it is the original and pure essence of nirvana. It is the original understanding, the real nature of consciousness. All conditioned phenomena arise from it, and yet it is among those phenomena that beings lose track of it. They have lost track of this fundamental understanding, though it is active in them all day long, and because they remain unaware of it, they make the mistake of entering the various destinies.”

Unfortunately, even in the present day, we misunderstand  “mind” as the first and this leads to all the suffering of the world. And the second is the one the vast majority of humanity has missed. The obvious conclusion to this observation is that the solution to our contemporary troubles must begin with a proper grasp of our true mind, because we are prone to understand ourselves and others in the same fashion as this first kind of mind understands anything: as mutually discreet, perceived objects, all different with no connective spiritual tissue, only. Beneath our bodily form lies our true spiritual nature which never dies and is connected to all.

The power of hate?

In spiritual annals, rarely is hate seen in a positive light. Often times hate is seen as the antithesis of love: the natural foe to be overcome by love, but few times indeed is hate seen as a positive matter. And more times than not hate is aligned with demonic activity, while love is seen as the essence of divinity. 

However, neither hate nor love has any independent existence. Instead, these two, powerful emotions are forces that yield an understanding of the opposite. Truth and falsity are two sides of the coin of knowledge. A coin, of any kind, has two sides, just as a roof does. Neither a coin nor a roof would be possible if one side was removed. By so doing all of it would cease to exist. 

That principle goes by various names: relativity, perceptual contrast, and dependent origination. Not only do these two sides determine existence and nonexistence, but they make possible the understanding of both. What is true is only understood as true when given a comparison of falsity. Likewise, hate and love define one another, so too adversity, and the result of hope, growth in character, and endurance. The challenges of life afford us all with opportunities to experience, build strength, and discover for ourselves what is false and true.

Nothing, by itself, is either good or bad. No one overwhelmed with adversity or failing health sees either as desirable. But there is value in first experiencing both. Bodhidharma correctly observed, “Your body and mind are the field. Suffering is the seed, wisdom the sprout, and Buddhahood the grain…Every suffering is a buddha-seed, because suffering impels mortals to seek wisdom.” In that sense, sickness breeds wellness. Suffering breeds wisdom and compassion. And the opposite is true: anyone who experiences constant abundance has no motivation to empathize with those less fortunate nor awareness there is a higher level of spiritual enlightenment.

When we were children, our parents led us to believe in the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. The parental intension was to fill our children with a sense of awe. It worked for a time but eventually, we found out the truth. For centuries all (probably) humans believed the Earth was the center of the universe and this view was reinforced by the Church. When Galileo discovered the truth, he was imprisoned by that authority and forced to recant the truth. 

We oftentimes hear that a substantial amount of self-talk is negative and hateful. Thus we are led to believe this is always a bad thing. The critical issue here is which “self” is the reference point? A proper understanding of the self is essential to this issue. If self is understood as the ego (an image of our true self) then negative and hateful self-talk is exactly what is needed because truth and falsity are relative matters. Before true self-awareness dawns like the rising sun, the false self must set like the setting sun. The false self (ego) remains unaware of anything beyond, and thus must fall by the weight of everything hateful. 

In the words of the North Indian Mahāyāna Buddhist monk Śāntideva:

“All the suffering there is in this world arises from wishing our self to be happy. All the happiness there is in this world arises from wishing others to be happy.”

Just as the Earth is not the center of the universe, the world does not revolve around our egos. It is the very nature of egotism to exhibit as qualities of selfishness, greed, anger, delusion, alienation, hostility, and every other bad thing, and it is essential to spiritual awakening to hate these characteristics of behavior. So long as they remain acceptable dimensions of behavior they become normative and we, and the cultures within which we live, begin to die. It is the growing awareness that these qualities are true to be hated that become the power that fuels the engine of spiritual evolution, awakening, and universal brotherhood. And when at last the ego implodes because of the crush of self-hatred and discriminate love, the flower of unconditional love bursts forth from the all-embracing, non-discriminate source of our true self, and self-hatred transforms into universal self-love.