Divide or unite?

I love history. Knowing where we came from and how we got here is important. “Real” history—not the fairy-tale version we seem to prefer—teaches us valuable lessons. In particular, understanding the historical path leading to common-coin words and terms is paramount because words and terms are the building blocks of ideologies—the way we think and understanding what unites and divides us.

December 8 is an auspicious day few even know exists, and I’ll get to that in a moment. But first, I’d like to write about another day of which nearly everyone, throughout the world, is aware—December 25, the day Christians (and others) celebrate the birth of Jesus. We know that day as Christmas. But time has erased from our collective memory the origin of the term “Christmas,”—The Christian festival celebrating the birth of Jesus occurs on December 25. The English term Christmas (“mass on Christ’s day”) is of recent origin. The earlier term Yule (e.g., Yule-tide) may have derived from the Germanic jōl or the Anglo-Saxon geōl, which referred to the feast of the winter solstice: A purely secular root to what has become a day of giving and receiving gifts on Christmas, supposedly as a celebration of the birth of Jesus.

Since the early 20th century, Christmas has mostly become a secular holiday. In this secular celebration, a mythical figure named Santa Claus plays a pivotal role. For the most part, Christmas is a family holiday, observed by Christians and non-Christians, devoid of Christian elements. And we are now in the midst of “Black Fridays” (plural, since the day, has become an entire series of days), designating the annual rush to purchase the most for the least, in anticipation of getting ready for Santa Claus. “Black Friday” also has a historical path, but I don’t want to overlay one divergence on top of another, or I’d never get to the point. And what is that point? The point is the preference for myth over fact—Fake News or disinformation, making it nearly impossible to know which end is up. We seem to love snake-oil and those who sell it because we are essentially lazy and don’t make an effort to dig beneath the surface and discover what lies within.

There is a method in my madness for this short Christmas diversion, apart from the significance of December 8. The madness part is that I would delay. And the method part explains my reason, which is to illustrate how we (as a human family) have lost our way. As the saying goes: “Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” This very moment we are on the verge of doing just that—repeating a miserable era that emerged during the decade following 1930. That repetition has much to do with both December 8 and December 25.

Birth—biological birth is different from spiritual birth. In the Christian tradition, spiritual birth happens (or it doesn’t) when aspirants confess their sinful nature and accept the Holy Spirit (supposedly the aspect of a triune God—trinity, promised by Jesus) into their spiritual hearts and souls. Then, those “born again” become a new person, armed with The Spirit of God. The matter of salvation (e.g., being set free from the scourge of “sin”) presupposes being sinful in the first place. Without that presumption, the entire proposition falls into a thousand pieces, and like Humpty-Dumpty, can’t be put back together again: another divergent tale worth pondering, but for another time.

While few know the historical facts of Christmas (December 25), fewer still know the historical facts of Bodhi Day (December 8)—the Buddhist holiday that commemorates the day that the historical Buddha—Siddhartha Gautama (Shakyamuni), experienced enlightenment. According to tradition, Siddhartha had pursued and ultimately gave up years of extremely ascetic practice and resolved to sit under a “peepal tree” until he was free from suffering. Siddhartha sat beneath that tree, meditated until he found the root of suffering, and discovered how to liberate himself from it. That process of giving up asceticism was preceded by giving up what none of us would give up (great wealth) to travel the other path that lead to a dead-end. On the other side of that end lay the opening to ultimate freedom—a goal all humans desire; the mythical pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

When those living in the Western World think of enlightenment, they conjure up “THE Enlightenment,” an era when European politics, philosophy, science, and communications were radically reoriented during the course of the “long 18th century” (1685-1815) as part of a movement referred to by its participants as the Age of Reason, or simply The Enlightenment. Enlightenment thinkers in Britain, France, and Europe questioned traditional authority and embraced the notion that humanity could be improved through rational change. Ever since that era, the Western World has been on a path defined by rational thought and hardened ideologies. While Christians remained the largest religious group in the world in 2015, making up nearly a third (31%—2.3. billion) of Earth’s 7.3 billion people, they are fragmented into a myriad of schisms (e.g., denominations) too vast to count, each of which claims to be the sole keepers of the truth.

In the Eastern World, “enlightenment” is a very different matter. The idea of “moksha”—release from the cycle of continuing suffering by attaining a transcendent state of mind, is the gold standard. It is within this state of mind that one realizes unconditional truth. Opposing ideologies are anathema to this sort of enlightenment but is instead oriented toward realizing one’s true nature of unity (non-difference vs. ideological differences). And for that reason celebrating December 8 (Bodhi Day) is relevant to the current crisis of chaos around the world. We are in a meltdown mode because of the “I’m right/you’re wrong” vector of ideologies, which align with rational thinking, taking us further and further away from meltdown solutions. 

Culture transformed.

Transforming our culture

Nothing is ever lost. Instead, all matter transforms in the readiness of time. This is true for everything, and particularly at the present time. The pandemic is transforming lives throughout the planet in ways nobody could anticipate. People, plants, animals, and every other being from large to small never truly dies. Nothing essential is lost, and when the time is ripe, transformation happens. While our attention is focused (nearly exclusively) on adapting to the COVID pandemic, the global environmental catastrophe marches on.

Rising climate temperatures heat water, which then rises as vapor into the cooler upper atmosphere. The jet-stream moves the vapor, and when the time and conditions are right, the vapor transforms into droplets of rain, again falling to the earth, and the cycle continues. Everything transforms, even entire cultures go through the cycle of life and become a different sort of culture once the previous one becomes corrupt, and we learn what we can from victories and failures.

The movement from one thing into another is an ongoing evolution (at times, revolution) and flows seamlessly in steps too small to notice. And when the moment of transition comes, it is always preceded by something resembling death. These two: life and death, define each other. Neither can exist without the other. Of course, we consider death the final end and don’t connect it to new birth. Think about it: Without a seed falling to the earth, where the outer shell dies (exposing the inner embryo), nothing new will grow. The pangs of birth are always accompanied by pain. Doubt that? Ask any woman who has given birth. This very same process happens culturally. Nothing lasts in its present form.

Consider the following…

1. Religion: Dualism: mankind trapped between good and evil and separated from God.
2. Politics: Two-party systems in opposition.
3. Wealth distribution: I earned mine; get your own.
4. Interpersonal relationships: Me versus you—If I’m right, you must be wrong—Confrontation.
5. Self-awareness: I look in the mirror and don’t like what I see, unaware that the self looking in the mirror is the opposite of what is seen. The reflection of me is flawed. The one doing the seeing is not.
6. Morality: There is right and wrong, irreconcilably opposed to each other.
7. Interpersonal (or cultural) exchange: Mine.
8. Honesty: Sometimes yes, sometimes no (depending on how it may affect me).
9. Justice: Guilty or innocent, determined through an adversarial contest. “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

So what can we notice about where our own culture stands from various vantage points? Are there any commonalities across the different structural parts that might allow this reverse engineering? How do every day, connected activities function concerning such matters as the administration of justice, religion, politics, wealth distribution, relationships, self-awareness, morality, honesty, or interpersonal and cultural exchange? All of these segments represent the infrastructure of our culture. Can we notice anything in common across these dimensions? Is there a central thread that ties the different segments together? And if so, what would that thread be?

I’m going out on a “limb” (pun intended) and venture a guess that most people are unaware of the progressions and transforming underpinnings upon which they base their lives and extended—similar underpinnings upon which their culture is based. We go unaware of the happenings beneath the surface of our lives, and we can learn a lot about ourselves by noticing what occurs beneath the soil with trees. We see only the trunk, limbs, leaves and don’t need to see the root to know they are there. There, beneath the soil, the trees are connected, rejuvenating the dead with life-giving nutrients.

Such underpinnings become assumed givens that go unnoticed, unquestioned, and become governing norms. We are born into a particular culture and become conditioned by these norms. We continue with our lives until what we are doing stops working, and we try one solution after another, trying to recapture what is already something different. That being said, it is possible to stand back and consider how a given culture functions and then back into a probable philosophic structure, sort of like reverse engineering.

The observation: All of these expressions reflect attitudes based on an assumed principle, which the Greek philosophers established a long time ago, namely the Principle of Non-Contradiction. In simple terms, non-contradiction means something can’t be the same as a different thing, at the same time in the same place. And this perspective has established the fundamental basis of discrimination, meaning one thing versus something opposed to the first thing. The principle seems immanently logical and has driven Western Civilization ever since Plato proposed the idea in 380 BCE. His attempt was to provide a consistent structure as the definition of justice and the character of the just city-state and the just man. The essential question is this: Does this logical perspective result in what Plato intended, “…the order and character of the just city-state and the just man?”

Or perhaps a more pertinent question is (In Dr. Phill’s terms): how is this working out? One observation (my own) is that the principle results in the opposite of what Plato intended. Instead, the result is an attitude of deference, superiority, alienation, self-righteousness, imbalance, justice determined more by financial resources than anything else, a polarized culture, and a loss of morality and confidence in the future.

Nevertheless, this philosophy continues on with progressively prominent degrees of this downward spiral of opposition. The answer to why this seems to be, is perhaps that it forces cultural participants to become occupied more and more with their own exclusive concerns at the expense of others.

And in answer to the central-thread question, perhaps what binds these all together with similar outcomes is how we feel about ourselves as isolated and fear-ridden beings. Perhaps we misunderstand that what we truly are is an eternal and unified spirit—one being trying on different human roles, evolving until we realize who we are: A single unified being, similar to the underground network of mushrooms. 

“All religions speak about death during this life on earth. Death must come before rebirth. But what must die? False confidence in one’s own knowledge, self-love, and egoism. Our egoism must be broken.”

This culture is transforming from one way to a better way and it, like all things, must die and rise again.

Playing the hand we’re dealt.

Two sides: Winning and losing.

Many years ago, my Zen teacher told me: “Once you open your eyes, without bias, you’ll be amazed how many lessons of wisdom life will show you.” Little did I know at the early time just how true his counsel would be.

It is doubtful that any of us are dealt a flawless hand when we enter this mortal world. There are always a few losing cards, even in the best of hands. It isn’t nearly as important what we are dealt with but how we play that hand.

I learned how to play the bridge game even before I met my teacher and played as well as possible. Subsequently, we met; I took a sustained hiatus from the game and came back much later, following his wise counsel. I then began to play again and learned a wise lesson from that game that applies to life in general. That wise lesson was concerned with how to play the game of bridge and the game of life. And the lesson is this: If you are aware of the losing cards (that’s easier once you lose your biases—many people pretend to have no flaws), lose them early in the game—you’ll lose them anyway, so it’s always better to lose early.

The wisdom of losing early has multiple ripple effects across what comes next. One of the most important ripples is when you lose anything, you will empathize with others who also lose (everyone does sooner or later). And armed with that sense of empathy, you will be enabled to lend a hand to others who suffer later in your game. To lose late in the game may teach the same lesson, but you will have less mortal time left to apply the lesson, and the wisdom will be of little value, except to you. Doing good (not just talking good) in this life will then carry on into your next incarnation: Fewer beginning losers next time around.

A related lesson came to me from a member of our bridge club. Dear Gerry often said, “I don’t mind if I lose because when I lose, someone else wins.” She was a kind (yet competitive) player who taught me that losing wasn’t so bad, and that lesson relates to the first. Losing is just the other side of the coin of winning, and if we don’t give up during those losing times, the tide will eventually turn, and you’ll win again. But when you lose, you will know what it feels like and see life with the eyes of compassion and wisdom. And that lesson of never giving up (e.g., perseverance through thick and thin) is very wise as well. Why? Because most players of this game of life will relent first. And then, even if you have a losing hand, you’ll win by default. If the rabbit stops before the finish line—even if he is an inch away—the turtle will first cross. 

When life throws you the ball of losing, consider it a blessing, be grateful, and catch it. There are fewer lessons more important than knowing how to play the cards life deals you.

Dancing through life

Watching two accomplished ballroom dancers is a delight. They move in graceful, fluid motions almost as a single entity. One leads; the other follows. If there is no cooperation, then harmony is broken with both trying to lead, and the motion is jerky and chaotic. 

If neither leads, there is no motion. If you look at what’s happening in Washington right now, you can see the non-dance of chaos. Whether we move or don’t, dance can only occur if there is a floor to dance on. 

Dancers don’t move through thin air. In a certain sense, we are like those dancers. We move in a relationship with others across the immovable floor of life. Our movements are either fluid, graceful, or chaotic, depending on how we cooperate. It’s a matter of giving and taking. Two gives or two takes end in stalemate. We have invented a saying to express this dance. It is called “What goes around comes around.” We reap what we sow. 

In Buddhism, this is called karma and works the same way. The floor beneath the dance is, of course, the immovable foundation of our life—our mind. If it moved, the dancers would be shaken. But since it is stable, the dance can proceed: One half leading, the other half following. And the dance can only happen with these three things—The immovable floor and the two partners. When all three functions in harmony, the dance of life is a beautiful thing.

The suffering of silence.

“There are basically two types of people. People who accomplish things, and people who claim to have accomplished things. The first group is less crowded.”—Mark Twain

In a post from another blog I spoke about putting legs under our words and titled the post, Talk without action is cheap (and worthless). Satirist Mark Twain apparently agreed with Mr. Einstein, given his quote above. The essence of his words, and mine, concerns accomplishments, or worse; apathy and complacency—the death knells of accomplishment.

Far too often our tendency is based on the flawed notion of, “It ain’t my problem,” with the corresponding notion of making nice and not rocking the boat. We maintain a conspiracy of silence, motivated by an unspoken consensus to not mention or discuss given subjects in order to maintain group solidarity, or fear of political repercussion and social ostracism. “Nice people” avoid controversy and ignore the plights of those, seemingly not like us. In so doing we exhibit the mantra of the assumed elite: A “CEO of Self.”

When you cut through the pomposity, a conspiracy of silence is cowardly dishonest and delusional to the point of refusing to acknowledge our connectivity with the interrelated fabric of life. The complexity of living in today’s world is straining this practice to the breaking point. When does rampant disease become our problem? When does injustice become our problem? When does poverty, or the growing economic polarization become our problem? Bigotry? Racism? Hatred? Environmental catastrophes?

We are now engaged in a political campaign for electing the next POTUS and the choices we make will have an impact for years to come. There are many who vote in unthinking ways, toeing the party line or choose to not vote at all, based on the flawed idea that choosing between lesser evils is still voting for evil. We might want to bear in mind that we should never hold the possible, hostage to the perfect. There are no choices that are perfect this side of enlightenment so we must make better choices, not perfect ones.

Lest anyone doubt the proclivity of our current leader, they should read for themselves how his comments are designed to divide and conquer; to draw the line between two possible nations. One of these continues the cherished tradition upon which our nation was founded. The other is an insult to the principles that undergird that nation. It is becoming increasingly difficult to remain silent, stand on the sideline and do nothing to stop the tyrant who wishes nothing more than to rip apart a nation that stands for justice and liberty for all, to ensure his prosperity at the expense of those for whom he was elected.

In 1925, following World War I (the War to end all wars: What a farce!) T. S. Eliot wrote a poem called The Hollow Men. The poem of 98 lines ends with “probably the most quoted lines of any 20th-century poet writing in English.” 

Eliot captured the spirit of apathy brilliantly and concluded that the silent conspirators rule the world, not by force, but rather by inaction. He said, 

“We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.”
“Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is…
Life is…
For Thine is the…
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.”

Haunting words to contemplate.

Justice for all?

All or none

This is a recycled post initially created during the Obama era since the issue is as relevant now as then. We seem to be creatures of strange, and many times self-destructive habits. 

Today’s news is so full of critical, unresolved, explosive, and seemingly unrelated issues that it’s difficult to restrict my comments to the undercurrent, and broader matter that effects unfolding injustice. Every day we are witnesses to the emerging tips of the iceberg of justice not done. What I have always been intrigued by is what lies beneath injustice. The essential question is whether there is a common root beneath the surface that pokes its ugly head up into plain view?

One of the most puzzling questions that have continued to perplex me (and others) is the assumed illogic expressed by many policymakers that they alone remain exempt from their decisions. It almost appears they think they live on one planet that has no connection to our world where other people live who are impacted by their decisions. Why does this myth seem to be perpetually impenetrable? And how can others who are affected, continue to support their madness? This latter was succinctly expressed this morning by a question I noticed on a social media site. The question was this: “How is it that a group of billionaire businessmen and corporations can get a bunch of broken middle-class people to lobby for lower taxes for the rich that worsens their own lives?”

But as perplexing as this conundrum appears to be, it isn’t anything new. As far back as 1882, Henrik Ibsen wrote his now-famous play An Enemy of the People. In the play, a small coastal town in Norway (that was economically depressed) for a brief moment appears to be spared further hardship when the Mayor promotes the development of public baths. The town is thus expecting a surge in tourism and prosperity from this venture. The hot springs are assumed to be of great medicinal value, and as such, will be a source of much local pride and revenue. On the eve of the opening, a prominent citizen; Doctor Thomas Stockmann discovers that waste products from the town’s tannery are contaminating the hot springs, and will cause serious illness amongst the tourists.

In the lingo of our world today, Stockmann “blows the whistle.” He expects this important discovery to be among his greatest achievements, and promptly sends a detailed report to the Mayor (Stockmann’s brother), which includes a proposed solution, that would come at a considerable cost to the town, but render the springs safe. Quite to his amazement, Stockmann soon discovers, that rather than being seen as a savior he is attacked as an enemy of the town’s people and brings both himself and his family into great jeopardy.

So to return to the original conundrum, …how can others who are impacted, continue to support the madness of those who orchestrate mayhem against themselves? And what is that commonly shared root that may lurk beneath the surface, which compels such self-destructive action? There are so many variations on this theme, it’s hard to stay focused. One such variation was expressed by Nebraskan, Mary Pipher in, her book The Green Boat, Reviving Ourselves in our Capsized Culture. Her book addresses the contradictions between the publically expressed concern by Obama for the environment and the signing of legislation that authorized building the Keystone Pipeline that would deliver the dirtiest crude oil known to mankind for processing and distribution throughout the world. Will Mary, like Doctor Thomas Stockmann or Edward Snowden, now be seen as the enemy? There are many who hate anyone who looks beyond the moment of quick riches to the far-reaching effects of decisions fueled (pun intended) by vested interests of a few at the expense of many. 

According to Mary, “The psychological twist in the case of climate change is that we inflict the disaster ourselves. Hurricane Sandy was not simply one more instance of nature unleashing its fearsome powers, just as it has done for millions of years on this planet. Humans are now helping to stir the pot.”

I fear (appropriately so) that we are killing far too many messengers who announce warnings to a curiously quiet society who seem all too willing to join forces with those who are eager to bring us all harm for the immoral benefit of a few. One primary message of An Enemy of the People is that the individual, who stands alone, is more often right than the mass of people, who are portrayed as ignorant and sheep-like. Society’s belief in Ibsen’s time was that the community was a noble institution that could be trusted, a notion Ibsen challenged. In An Enemy of the People, Ibsen chastised not only the conservatism of his society but also liberalism. He illustrated how people on both sides of the social and political spectrum could be equally self-serving.

The proof of Iben’s contention seems to thrive continuously, and will most likely until each and every one of us realizes what Martin Luther King Jr. said (and many others)  that, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” Quite contrary to deluded notions of some, we only have one shared earth, one shared existence, and one shared justice for all, or none.

The lens through which we see the world

Ego, by Hsiao-Yen Jones

Bias; vested interests; preconceived ideas; discrimination: All forms of distortion that shape our view of the world and our selves. Birds of a feather flocking together against birds with different feathers, but underneath the feathers, all just birds with no defining labels. What do you have when you get rid of feathers? Birds. What do we have when we get rid of our delusions? The real you and me: all humans, with no defining properties: A true man, without rank.

What we are not ordinarily aware of is that every single person is looking at life through the filter of a fabricated artifact that is continuously distorting our view of the world around us. Beneath the false remains the true, but to get through what lies beneath, we have to plunge through subconscious fears. Most recently, I wrote about this subconscious barrier in a post Dreams and delusions.

We think highly of ourselves and thus look down on others not like us. We reason that our views are right, so others must be wrong. We adore accolades, so we play to the adoring audiences. When seen through this egotistical artifact, we do so unaware of our bias and assume that our rose-colored glasses shade the world. We are the center of us, and the world conforms to our image. Love ourselves: love the world. Hate ourselves: hate the world. 

But first, we must come to know ourselves; The one beneath the lie. Without that awareness, we delude ourselves with thoughts of superiority (the opposite or somewhere in between), believing we wear the clothes of an emperor. Who is this self? Is that the one we are genuinely: The one that is dependent upon the votes of birds like us, who vacillates on the whim and opinions of others; who needs reinforcement to be whole and complete? Or the self, that is already whole, eternal, steady, loved, and loves? The ego needs everything because it is always incomplete and unreal. Our true self is eternally whole, complete, and needs nothing. In the 14th century a mystic by the name of Meister Eckhart said this concerning how one head, stands in comparison to another:

“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 form of our human birthright that puts one head above another. The ego is the archenemy of our authentic, united selves, and God. But at the ground level of our humanness, we are equal and good, whether Pope, Emperor, Buddha, or an average person. Remove the enemy, and our unity shows through.

Beacon on the Hill?

The shades that color our vision

Before the last U.S. presidential election, I wrote this post, which I think might be germane again, even though Covid-19 has changed the global landscape. I wrote, “In a few days, the American citizenry will go to the polls and vote to elect the next President of the United States. Most people have already decided how they will vote, and little between now and then is likely going to alter their perspectives. Thus this message will undoubtedly have little if any effect on their future choices. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to say something concerning a vision that could make a small difference.” 

Sometimes (rarely), a tiny message can have a huge impact. Little things are not always insignificant. For example, the Botulinum toxin is possibly the most acutely toxic substance known. Four kg of the toxin, if evenly distributed, would be more than enough to kill the entire human population of the world. Of course, Covid-19 is so tiny it is invisible, yet thus far, it has killed more in the United States than all U.S. troops in the Vietnam War.

Some years ago, my Zen teacher said, “A single drop of rain waters 10,000 pines.” His point was that something as tiny as one drop of rain has the potential to bring about significant, broadly-spread, growth. The words I offer here are like that drop of rain: tiny but intended to stimulate expanded spiritual insight that will bring about fragrance as pleasant as a pine. I am not so delusional to imagine that this message will come close to that potency, but I offer it anyway with the hope that goodness will result.

How many of us see the effects of the choices we make. Few people are even aware of the nature of their own biases and distortions that shape their vision, but we all have our own versions. We assume that our views are correct without realizing that we are looking through lenses colored by these biased perspectives. The great Zen Master Bassui Tokushō instructed his students to first awaken the mind that reads, and then they would understand what they were reading. Of course, that advice took root in a few then and even fewer today. We all assume that our visions are clear and think we see things as they truly are.

I make no claim to perfect vision. I know I have much of value to learn, so in a certain sense, my vision is no better or worse than anyone else. But I have lived a long time and been exposed to parts of the world I never imagined as a child. I have lived with many people, both rich and poor, from all walks of life and read the wisdom of great poets, prophets, and sages. All of that has entered my mind as a chef might throw together ingredients into a pot to create a tasty meal.

If I had to reduce the teachings of great sages down to a short sentence, it would be that we are all one, none better nor worse than anyone else, and how we understand ourselves determines everything. In the words of Jesus, what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and suffers the loss of his own self? Or what exchange shall a man give for his soul?

Our self-understanding runs in one of two directions: either towards selfishness or selflessness. One way leads to increased fear, alienation, hostility, and greed—the other towards courage, equanimity, unity, and goodness toward all. I don’t have much use for dogmatic, stuck-in-the-mud religions even though I am an ordained Christian Minister, have studied and put into practice the words of great sages. I don’t regard myself as a socialist or a communist either, but I agree with Karl Marx who said that “Religion is the opium of the people.” 

And I agree because to most religious people I have ever known, their dogma has turned them into self-serving, self-righteous, unthinking robots more interested in cherry-picking their holy texts to serve their own predetermined agendas than shaping their lives around the teachings of their own pioneers. The current Pope offers some hope in restoring his followers to the proper place of paying heed to the teachings of Christ to love without discrimination. And the life of Nelson Mandela likewise serves as another beacon.

However, I fear for our country at this point in history because we have become increasingly polarized robots who have run contrary to the advice of Jesus: we have traded away our souls for dwindling wealth. Instead of becoming more and more the United States of America, we have become increasingly disunited, caring more for preserving and protecting selective hides than becoming magnanimous. The nobility of spirit that made us into a shining beacon is growing dim, and we routinely waste our dwindling resources in such endeavors as fighting more and seeking peace less.

Maybe this small message, so late in the game, will crack the thin facade of greed and open the hearts and minds of many to what we are losing by our lust for ever-increasing exclusivity. And just perhaps, Covid-19 will force us to become truly great again. I hope so, but my hope, like that shining beacon, is growing dim.

Eat to live, or live to eat?

The title implies a priority, not only for food but work, particularly spiritual work. As a child, I was always asking the question, “Why?” Why does anyone do anything? 

Priorities and choices are important since they reflect motives. “What floats your boat,” is a contemporary expression implying such motives, and more times than not, beneath all else lies the issue of material prosperity, and the more the better.

Sadly in today’s world, words of wisdom and spiritual guidance are very profitable businesses, just as in politics. Both are huge sources of “living to eat, well” and not just eating to live but gluttony. Evidence, regardless of religious affiliation, all began with renunciation of material craving, or if you like “excessive desire.” 

And there was a universal reason for avoiding craving. The reason? Because craving leads to attachment and attachment to anything material eventually leads to suffering. Anything and everything of, a material nature, will come to an end and when it does, if we are attached the loss can be profound suffering. 

In some cases that suffering arises out of addiction—whether to wealth, power, people, drugs, or even fixed ideas. And why is it that we become addicted? Because we love what eases our suffering. Fixed ideas may seem odd, as a source of suffering, but fixed ideas provide us with a false sense of security, and we all love the idea of stability when the world around us is swirling. How, you may ask, can fixed ideas produce suffering? If you think about it, fixed ideas are ideas in opposition to flexible ideas. The former is what we call dogma, whereas the latter is known as an adaptation or adjusting to change. And what changes? Everything! 

Ordinarily, when we refer to dogma it is done within a religious context—“My way or the highway.” But dogma can, and is, what has presently produced a world-wide movement toward the abyss when hardly anyone is even slightly interested in compromise. We are ignoring significant, life-altering changes that will surely kill us all. Instead, we are clinging to a notion of certain invincibility. When anyone is firmly rooted in just one way it is because they have arrived at the juncture of “truth” vs. “fake news.  

I don’t think anyone gets out of bed and says to themselves, “today I will conduct my life following principles of ‘fake news’.” Quite to the contrary, everyone believes they are pursuing truth. The problem is one person’s food is another person’s poison. Science and faith appear to oppose one another, yet there is uncertainty in both directions. One of my favorite perspectives on this comes from Ashley Montagu: “Science has proof without any certainty. Creationists have certainty without any proof.” Proof is the bird in hand. The two in the bush are speculations. None of us have any choice except to take life as it is—the one in hand. Reminiscence is to live in the past that no longer exists and speculation is to dwell in the future that will never come. Serenity is to accept things as they are, right now, in each fleeting moment, regardless of how we got here, or where it may lead.

“May the flawed prevail over the wicked.”

It may very well be that I’m writing this post for nobody but myself. Previously I participated in various social media sites that helped to spread my words until I learned my personal information had been hacked, and I withdrew. 

Undoubtedly this vastly reduced my readership, but the price just became too high. Consequently, here I sit writing concerning a matter that is important to me, and hopefully, others who may never read these words.

So what’s the burning issue that draws me this morning? The headline gives you a clue, and a part of my message came from columnist Kathleen Parker, writing for the Washington Post—a publication I admire, to which I subscribe—most recently about this issue of something that’s been on my mind for quite some time. Obama expressed the idea more eloquently than I in his speech following Katrina. He said, “Nobody gets to hold the American economy hostage over their own ideological demands.” My rendition of that idea is one of balance: We ought not to throw the baby out with the bathwater. If that seems obscure, I’ll put it in different terms: Who amongst us meets the criteria of absolute perfection (except, of course, the hypocrite who lies not only to others but most importantly him or her self)?

Far too often in today’s world, we ignore the majority of good a person does and paint them with a brush of minority flaws. Maybe that’s what sells newspapers: The sensational and lurid, but it ought not to be what defines a person. What lies in a person’s heart and soul should count for more than their errors of execution. What leads us down this path to Hell is the flawed ideology of dogmatic inflexibility and self-righteous denial of our own flaws and the eager rush to judge others with a yardstick that measures only the impossible. When we toss aside the major good and dwell on the minor exceptions, we establish a standard that we will one day regret.

“May the flawed prevail over the wicked.”

A house of mirrors

Our reflections.

It’s dark, and you can’t see anything. Suddenly the lights are switched on. You’ve never seen the light before, so the glare hurts your eyes. 

Days go by, but gradually your eyes adjust, and what do you see? Everywhere you look, you see people with smiling faces who seem to adore you, and these people are exuding love and tenderness all directed at you. They tickle you. They feed you. They comfort you when you’re sad and play with you, and little by little, you come to believe that you’re exceptional. These people are your parents and friends, and they are your mirrors.

That time is extraordinary, but it doesn’t last. Soon you move on and come in contact with other people. You and they relate to each other in the same way—like mirrors. You reflect them, and they reflect you, and little by little each, and everyone learns how to manipulate their environment to glean the best outcome, the ego dance begins, and our identities take shape.

So long as anyone stays in that house of mirrors, there is no alternative but to experience themselves as a reflection. But this manipulation game is complex and often frustrating, fraught with anxiety, fear, and tension. The players don’t cooperate. They want their way instead of your way. Why are these people not adoring you but instead demanding that you love them? Where are those adoring parents when we need them? Why can’t everyone just get along? Why can’t everyone see things as you do, think as you do, construct the world, as you want? 

And the ego dance begins to come unglued, and you are lost, but what nobody realizes is at that moment of loss; that identity crisis is this is a blessing in disguise. Once that moment of disaster arrives, you are ready for the mirrors to fall away and find your true nature. And then, at last, you become the wholly complete person you’ve always been: The one looking into the mirrors; not the one reflected.

The chicken or the egg?

Which comes first?

A fellow seeker sent me a private message concerning the limitations of language. The person will remain incognito except to say they are from an East Indian culture and is therefore a Kalyanamitra (the Sanskrit word for spiritual friend).

To reply to their inquiry I’d like to explore the paradox of the chicken/egg. This paradox has confounded human intelligence since the first consideration. It seems obvious that one can’t come before the other but how we wonder, is it possible to solve this paradox? It is indeed a puzzle, known as a tangled hierarchy that arises when by moving in one direction we return to where we began. From a conditional perspective, there is no way to solve this puzzle since one of these (either the chicken or the egg) is contingent on the other. So long as we continue thinking in the cause and effect way, we remain in the trap of conditions. But how else can we think? So long as we are confined within the sphere of conditional reality there is no other way of thinking; one thing leads to what seems to follow but can’t.

The same sort of paradox applies to philosophy: A pathway to follow that will lead us to the assumed desired end. The issue that turns both of these upside down is the limitation of reality that is constrained purely within the bounds of conditions or said another way, within the constraints of dependencies or contingencies. And why should we accept these constraints?

The interdependent nature of conditional life points clearly to contingencies and conditional dependencies, at least that part of life that appears. But the more central issue is this business of appearances. Is it possible that appearances are likewise contingent upon non-appearances? Rational logic confirms that only at the moment of conception, both a mother and a child come into being. How is it possible for a woman to be a mother without a child? And how can a child exist without a mother? Such things are obvious but what is not obvious is the relationship between appearances and non-appearances.

If we can substitute equivalences we might make some headway in grasping this seeming conundrum. In the study of mathematics, we are taught that things that are equal, are likewise equal to other things that are equal. Thus if A=B and B=C, then A equals C as well. So let’s give this a shot: Let’s call “appearances” conditional and “non-appearances” unconditional. Now we have the material for some spiritual math. The law of dependent origination says that nothing exists independently. Instead, things arise together (and are only understood) given a contextual framework. Thus the color black can only exist and be understood given the contextual framework of non-black and this understanding helps us to solve the chicken/egg, appearance/non-appearance problem.

The Buddha, and later Nāgārjuna, correctly stated that neither essence nor non-essence exists independently. So what does this have to do with the conditional and unconditional paradox? Actually, it is not so difficult to grasp so long as we accept the rule of dependent origination because that rule says that neither conditional reality nor unconditional reality can possibly exist as independent matters. We can’t of course detect anything unconditionally, since by definition conditions rely upon other conditions to be detected.

All conditional matters are detectable and we call such matters measurable dimensions of form. But what about the opposite of form: No-form? Can any form exist without an opposite? The Buddha said no. In fact, he said that form is the same thing as Śūnyatā (emptiness). In the Heart of Perfect Wisdom Sutra, the  Buddha said, “Form is emptiness. Emptiness is form.” 

Now lets’ return to the equivalency arrangement. Which comes first: a pathway (philosophy) that leads to an end? Or an end that leads to a philosophy (e.g., a sort of reverse engineering)? As a side note, this is somewhat like the politician who notices where his constituency is going and rushes to the head of the line to proclaim leadership. Suppose that the end and the beginnings are one and the same thing? Suppose that at the level of unconditional reality there is no difference between a beginning and an ending?

How can there be such a difference since detectable differences require other detectable differences (or so it appears)? But appearances aside, conditional reality and unconditional reality arise together and the unconditional dimension of every sentient being lies at the heart of us all. It is that dimension that lures each and every one of us away from attachment to material matters that seem to define us. It is that very indefinable heart of wisdom and compassion that says to us all “is this material world all there is? Must I become content with this despicable reliance on competition, alienation, hostility, and greed?” 

As good as any philosophy might be, it can never touch that undetectable heart. For any philosophy to be of ultimate worth it must begin following the realization of our true, indefinable nature of perfection. Otherwise, the path will lead us back to where it all begins (yet never begins, or ends) and then we will realize there is no path to lead us to where we are already and have never moved away from. My Kalyanamitra asked a question for which there is no acceptable conditional answer and to even attempt such an answer would be disingenuous. Perhaps if they can grasp the significance of this reply, which moves the discussion beyond the realm of conditions, they will look at the question in a more enlightened way.

Not an idea

It is hard to imagine how it is possible that anyone could not notice the intensity of frantic energy in our world today, directed toward greed and alienation. On the one hand, we seem determined to grab our exclusive share of a shrinking pie, and on the other, we discover a growing gap between ourselves and others. 

These are two sides of a common coin which is rooted in the illusion of an independent self. The base-line presumption, which drives this race of the lemmings, is that we are an idea—a mental image that we have agreed to call a “self-image.” Buddhism, long ago, established this as an illusion. 

Fundamentally none of us is an idea, but so long as we remain so persuaded, we are destined to operate from what comes along for the ride: Fear and alienation. The self we imagine is continuously vulnerable, desirous, and isolated. The presumption, centered in this mirage, is that it is necessary to become possessive to survive. And when we do, we end up taking our lot from the hide of others, which results in progressive alienation. 

A person who exhibits a strong need to possess is a challenge to be with. The implied message in such a relationship is “for me to be complete, I must carve off and possess a piece of you.” The answer to this identity crisis is not to become complete by shoring up a false image but rather to transcend the idea and find our true, always complete, substantial self.