Head-bones and Tail-bones; Life and Death

As often occurs, I discover relevance between previous posts and current affairs. This is such a case, and accordingly, I’m reposting it now.

Life is suffering: The first of The Buddha’s Four Nobel Truths. The question is, “which life?” We examined two different life kinds in yesterday’s post: ego/soul life and essential life. Meister Eckhart rightly stated divine essence can’t suffer. The Buddha lived long before Eckhart, on the other side of the world, but there appears to be no disagreement between them. They were both mystics, and mystics from all times have spoken the same truths. So back to the question: Which life does suffer and why? In the Mahāyāna Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, which The Buddha said was the most important teaching of all—this matter was addressed in a causal relationship way which is counter-intuitive to normal everyday thinking. We are not so good at examining causal links. Our approach is to leap across vast boundaries without looking at the links. We rush to war without understanding how we got to the brink in the first place. We leap from head-bones to tail-bones with no consideration of the bones in between linking causes with effects. We are band-aid people looking at effects without addressing causes.

Why do we suffer? What is the causal link between life and death? It is impossible to answer such questions without first defining “which” life and looking at the links joining different life kinds. What is the link between the cause and effect of drug addiction and crime? What is the link between the cause and effect of war? What is the causal link between life and death? What is life? What is death?

The Buddha would say that real life is intrinsically essential, never ends, and that ego life is fleeting and non-essential. These are connected. They arise together, and we experience both. The problem is that unless we awaken to the illusive nature of ego life, we never become aware of essential life. To hear an excellent, short podcast about life that never dies, click here. Ego life (who we imagine ourselves to be) commands our full attention. At that level of existence, we are so busy fighting off the alligators we forget that we’re here to drain the swamp. It’s a full-time job because ego life is responsive (100%) to mortal existence, which is fleeting. These two are mirror images of one another. Someone sends a missile your way, you first defend, and then you attack. The ego is absolutely convinced of independence and isolation. To the ego, interdependence is a myth. If we are attacked, we never consider what we did to provoke the attack. We just blame the attacker. The ego’s job description is (1) defend, (2) defend, (3) defend. And the best defense is a good offense. The only relevant question is, who attacks first?

The Virginia Tech student (Seung-Hui Cho) did not suddenly turn into a deranged murderer. He had a long history of issues, and his condition was the result of many contributing forces. We may never know what those forces were nor how they coalesced to produce the tragedy. But one thing is for sure: he was a walking-talking suffering machine. He had no clue who he really was, at the essential level. He was a damaged ego: walking death—which he then actualized, and so are all people who suffer. The effect may take the form of drug addiction, killing people on campuses, or in any war, but the cause is fear and a bone-deep sense of emptiness. 

Ego life is connected with essential life. These two are a partnership, with ego life being the outward sheath and consciousness being eternal. In the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, this link is spoken of as Self and non-Self, meaning that one is essential (e.g., never suffers) and the other is illusive (and always suffers). Genuine life is essential. Mortal life (constantly moving toward death) is non-essential, and they both exist in us. When people are in pain and are suffering, they are completely consumed with non-Self and are totally asleep to essential life. The non-Self is who we think we are, but the non-Self is a mirage, like all thinking. Thinkers think thoughts. Thoughts are about reality, but thoughts are not real. The non-Self is a thought, but you are essentially real. Your reality, all reality—is transcendent to thinking. If you have not experienced essential reality, you are asleep, dreaming about reality, and are walking with death only.

Transformation

Buddhism has been around so long that it is hard to recall the locus—the seed from which it grows. But by recalling the condensed teaching of the Buddha, the essence is the very first point: Life (e.g., mortal) is suffering. Everything else about Buddhism is centered around that locus. So whenever we become overwhelmed with the multiplicity of the branches springing from this ancient practice, all we have to do is remember the root: Life is Suffering. This is why Buddhism has such an enduring appeal—Everyone suffers, and nobody wants to. And no more thorough practice has ever been conceived to understand suffering and provide a means for overcoming it than Buddhism. Suffering springs from our mind and begins with how we perceive and understand ourselves and the world we live in. And this is why Buddhism is a full exposition of our minds.

Master Hsuan Hua writes about this matter in the opening section of The Shurangama Sutra. He points out two aspects of our mind: Superficial, but unreal, the other hidden, but real. He says that the hidden part is like an internal gold mine that must be excavated to be valuable. This gold mine is everywhere but not seen. The superficial part is also everywhere but seen, and it is this superficial part that lies at the root of suffering. He says,

“ The Buddha-nature is found within our afflictions. Everyone has afflictions, and everyone has a Buddha-nature. In an ordinary person, it is the afflictions, rather than the Buddha-nature, that are apparent...Genuine wisdom arises out of genuine stupidity. When ice [afflictions] turns to water, there is wisdom; when water (wisdom) freezes into ice, there is stupidity. Afflictions are nothing but stupidity.”

The word stupidity may sound harsh and uncaring, but sometimes stark truth is more effective than placation. The critical point of his statement (and a message of the Sutra) is that there is a crucial relationship between suffering and wisdom. Both of these rest on a fundamental principle of faith—That at the core of our being, there is the supreme good, which is ubiquitous. Unlike other religions where faith is in an external God, in Buddhism, faith concerns a serene commitment in the practice of the Buddha’s teaching and trust in enlightened or highly developed beings, such as Buddhas or bodhisattvas (those aiming to become a Buddha).

Many people get confused with words, especially the word “Buddha-nature.” When the uninformed hear that word, they start thinking about a ghost that they imagine looks like some ancient Indian person. What we believe makes a difference. But instead of the label Buddha-nature, we could call it “Mind-nature” because Buddha means awakened. When we awaken to our right primordial minds, our world is transformed. Buddha-nature is the unseen gold mine that inhabits all of life. Without accepting that core, we are incapable of accessing wisdom, and without understanding, we are all trapped in suffering. The flip side of suffering is bliss, just as the flip side of up is down, but when we are immersed in the down, it is most difficult to “pull ourselves up from the bootstraps” and rise above misery. During those downtimes, it seems that everything is down.

We have all had conversations about the essential nature of people. Some say that we are rotten to the core—that there is no vital good there. Such people have given up on their own human family. This voice is split between those who believe in God and those who don’t. On the one hand, if there is to be any essence of good, it is purely the result of that good coming from an external God. The “non-believers” hold no hope at all—Just rotten to the core. Neither of these voices acknowledges intrinsic worth. To one, the worth is infused; to the other, there is none.

The eternal presence of Buddha-nature (e.g., the pure/not polluted mind of consciousness) is a contrary voice of faith: The recognition of intrinsic, essential worth, present in life. This gold mine, which, when accepted in faith, manifests in wisdom amid affliction and turns ice into water.

Happiness

The secret of happiness.

Rich man, Poor man, Beggarman, Thief, Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief—The limerick, reflecting a child’s wondering: What will I be when I grow up? Every child thinks about that question. Every adult continues to wonder. It seems like a game of chance. 

The more important question, the one that is never asked, is not what but how. The “what” presumes the “how,” but it rarely works out the way we imagine. We really ought to think more about the latter and less about the former, since without understanding how “what”  becomes a game of chance.

“We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness….” So wrote Thomas Jefferson, the principal author of the Declaration of Independence.

Every time I contemplate those words, an image pops into my mind of a mule trying to catch the carrot on the end of a stick attached to his head. The faster he goes, the faster the carrot moves away. Everyone wants to be happy, yet the pursuit takes us further and further away. The carrot is never eaten, and the mule starves in his pursuit.

It seems axiomatic that the fruit of whatever work we choose should result in happiness, if not immediately, then certainly after a time of diligence and perseverance. It’s the bargain we make, yet more times than not, the contract goes adrift. Could it be we are looking in the wrong direction? Forwards? Backward? Which way? How about within? And just maybe we need to first answer a more fundamental question of being because until we know who and what we are, we’re all chasing shadows and thinking all the while that happiness is a reward.

The highest wisdom says otherwise. This is what Krishna tells Arjuna in The Bhagavad Gita: 

“You have the right to work, but never to the fruit of work. You should never engage in action for the sake of reward, nor should you long for inaction. Perform work in this world, Arjuna, as a man established within himself—without selfish attachments, and alike in success and defeat. For yoga is perfect evenness of mind. Seek refuge in the attitude of detachment, and you will amass the wealth of spiritual awareness. Those who are motivated only by the desire for the fruits of action are miserable, for they are constantly anxious about the results of what they do. When consciousness is unified, however, all vain anxiety is left behind. There is no cause for worry, whether things go well or ill.”

Thich Nhat Hanh ends a talk in The Art of Mindful Living (Sounds True, 1992) with this: “There is no way to happiness, happiness is the way. There is no way to peace; peace is the way. There is no way to enlightenment; enlightenment is the way.”

All right words, yet none of them will take us to happiness until we unveil our essential Selves (Atman). “Those who mistake the unessential to be essential and the essential to be the unessential, dwelling in wrong thoughts, never arrive at the essential. Those who know the essential to be essential and the unessential to be unessential, dwelling in right thoughts, do arrive at the essential…We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.”—The Dhammapada. 

Until such time as we awaken to our essence, our thoughts will be wrong, we’ll dwell on the unessential, happiness will remain a figment of our imaginations, and we’ll continue to chase the carrot.

“Ide-prison-ology”

Rearranging priorities.

It’s time to add a new word to our contemporary vernacular. The addition is a simple adjustment to the word “ideology,” that reflects where our culture has arrived—in a prison of opposition with no legal appeal for release. 

We already have similar words  that approximate this new word, such as “Mexican standoff” or “logjam.” But the essence of this new word is only glancingly similar to those words. What the new word captures, sums up our current state of irreconcilability: a state of cultural and political “my way or the highway” stagnation where nothing gets done. 

The principle of compromise appears to be lost in the ash heap of time, and this state of mind is not limited to any one country. It is a global phenomenon that results in a preoccupation with the insignificant at the expense of the significant.

There is so much confusion occurring at the same time it is nearly impossible to arrange priorities. Even if we could, wait ten minutes and the entire deck gets reshuffled and we simply cease to think of what’s important and what’s not. Instead, we have fallen back into a time when legalism was abhorred by moral giants such as Jesus and The Buddha, both of whom fought to rectify the problem by pointing out what the laws of the time needed as a substratum—the spirit of the law. 

That focus has been lost as well, thus the need to establish this new word by recognizing what ought to be obvious but is not: We have fallen prey to dogmatic, inflexible positions of opposition where nobody but the rich and powerful—who rig the system to their advantage, perhaps by design, to keep us all confused and distracted by what is happening behind the scene with what is happening in front of the scene—too much of insignificance to enable us to notice matters of ultimate importance.

The question is, why is this happening? That’s a hydra-headed challenge but maybe it is simply a matter of too much comfort by the few at the cost of the many. Money and power are two factors not easily shared. Possessiveness is a stickler and the more a person has the more they seem to want. Maybe what we all need to do (and I’d suggest we begin from the top and work our way down) is go and live in places that aren’t so comfortable, where concern for your life is the common coin. There is nothing quite so transforming as your own experience of suffering. When you are starving, a single slice of bread becomes a feast and the ideology of the whole loaf or none at all descends into la-la-land, right where it belongs.

We have become imprisoned into camps of opposing ideas and values with no escape. It is long past time for us to realize such behavior is shooting everyone in the foot. Life always seems to follow the path we noticed in the Marines: Bad stuff flows downstream, never upstream. The tide needs to turn, and soon.

Lessons gleaned from a thermostat.

Spiritual homeostasis

Homeostasis defined: “Homeostasis is a characteristic of a system that regulates its internal environment and tends to maintain a stable, relatively constant, condition of properties.”

It occurred to me when contemplating my Nest thermostat (which regulates temperature within my living space) that there is a spiritual form of homeostasis. First: How my thermostat works in regulating my living space temperature:

There are three modes from which I can choose: Off, either heat or cool, or heat and cool. 

The Off setting requires little explanation. It means there is no sensing of ambient temperature in my space and, therefore, no regulation of my “HVAC” system (e.g., heating, ventilation, and air conditioning). 

The heat or cool setting regulates my HVAC system to either heat or cool my space, but it won’t do both at the same time. If I set my thermostat to heat only—but not cool—then if the ambient temperature falls in my space below the setting I select (e.g., 68º for example), my HVAC system will maintain my space to maintain above 68º (+or-) a given selected range. And the opposite is true. Selection of cool only means if my ambient space rises above 75º (+or-) a given selected range, my HVAC system keeps the temperature in my space at the desired range by cooling when the ambient temperature reaches 75º.

The third option, heat and cool, will switch as required. For example: When my thermostat detects that the temperature in my space falls below 68º, the thermostat sends a message to my HVAC to turn on the heat. And if the temperature in my space rises above 75º, the thermostat sends a message to my HVAC to turn on the cooling. I find this last mode to be the most desirable. Also, I can select a schedule for different parts of the day/night. I like to sleep when the temperature is around 68º, which, as it turns out, is the ideal sleep temperature, but I prefer 75º during the day. 

We, too, have an internal system that regulates many aspects of our biology to maintain homeostasis, ranging from temperature (just like my living space) to blood sugar levels, blood pressure, sleep, and more. 

Now the spiritual equivalent to homeostasis and my thermostat. The Off position favors neither hot nor cold. It could be called “potential spiritual energy.” The hot or cool position is an either/or position, such as what routinely occurs in ordinary life when we make judgments (e.g., It’s either right or wrong, but not both at the same time). That position is equivalent to ego-driven life. And lastly comes the both/and position of heat and cool, or in other words, circumstantially appropriate regulation such as set forth by “upaya”—expedient means, rather than hardened rights or wrongs rules. What is particularly curious is this: “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one IN Christ Jesus.”—Galatians 3:28. 

Not to be diverted, but clarification is needed here. It may seem insignificant to some, but exegetical scholars have noted this passage originally lacked the name “Jesus,” but instead read “...you are all one IN Christ.” Christ (Χριστός), in Koine Greek—The language used to write the New Testament—meant the Messiah; a title (anointed one), believed to be the personhood of God on earth. The significance is meaningful. “Jesus” was the given name, whereas Christ was a designated title, in the same fashion that “Gautama” was the given name of The Buddha (the title, that meant “awakened.”) 

And this: 

“Body is nothing more than emptiness; emptiness is nothing more than body.  The body is exactly empty, and emptiness is exactly body. The other four aspects of human existence—feeling, thought, will, and consciousness— are likewise nothing more than emptiness, and emptiness nothing more than they. All things are empty: Nothing is born, nothing dies, nothing is pure, nothing is stained, nothing increases and nothing decreases. So, IN emptiness, there is no body, no feeling, no thought, no will, no consciousness. There are no eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue, no body, no mind. There is no seeing, no hearing, no smelling, no tasting, no touching, no imagining. There is nothing seen, nor heard, nor smelled, nor tasted, nor touched, nor imagined. There is no ignorance and no end to ignorance.  There is no old age and death, and no end to old age and death. There is no suffering, no cause of suffering, no end to suffering, no path to follow. There is no attainment of wisdom, and no wisdom to attain…”—The Heart of Perfect Wisdom Sutra.

If you don’t see the connection, allow me to help, and notice, in particular, the word IN; emphasized to mean “in the presence of, exclusively.”  In the Off spiritual position, there is no discrimination between one thing or another. There is just potential spiritual energy. Only when there is a choice between the either/or vs. the both/and is there kinetic spiritual energy (e.g., in action/movement). One of those settings (e.g., the both/and) is what we could call “open-minded,” or circumstantially driven motion, rooted IN the source of all things. Three modes: Off—The source of all; Either/or—The cause of all suffering (ego); and Both/and—The resolution of all suffering (e.g., elimination of ego). It is a homeostatic spiritual system, nearly identical to every other system of balanced homeostatic necessity.

When IN the Off position (where conceptual thinking ceases—How Bodhidharma defined Zen) that all potential resides, where indiscriminate essence exists. And that potential can go in one of two directions: Ego-driven either/or (e.g., win/lose) vs. Essence driven both/and (e.g., win/win). It all depends on The Mind of No-Mind.

Nagarjuna’s teaching on essence.

The bloom of essence.

There’s an inherent danger in wrongly understanding the two facets of our virtual and non-virtual sides. The non-virtual side is easy to perceive. We are immersed in that side as fish are in the water. And yes, without being aware, there is a virtual side to all of us. 

“Virtual,” in this sense, means almost as described, but not wholly: Not essential. It’s tempting to focus on one side at the exclusion of the other. When The Buddha first passed on the teachings of the real (Atman/our True Self) and the unreal (anatman/our imagined self), this same misunderstanding arose. Orthodox Buddhism denies the existence of Atman/the true Self, claiming that everything is null and void, arguing one side but denying the other, which Nagarjuna nailed as nihilism yet to deny the ego/virtual, results in eternalism. 

This argument is counter to the premise of dependent origination, which is foundational to Buddhism as well as the teachings of The Buddha himself. The obvious point missed in this misunderstanding is that emptiness (the ineffable nature of the Self) is itself empty (non-empty and thus non-dual). Does the true Self exist? Nagarjuna would answer yes and no—the Middle Way. If the essence of Self exists, then nobody, except the true Self, would know without the counterweight of anatman. We only know by way of comparison and our perceptual capacities that adhere to anatman.

In the Western world, we were reared under the rule of law that says that if something is one way, it can’t be another way. The world is either black or white. If it is black, then by definition, it is not white (and the reverse). Nagarjuna—father of Mahāyāna Buddhism destroyed that comfort zone. We want things to be independent, discrete, separate, and tidy. If I am right, then you must be wrong. 

Our entire Western world functions as a subset of that logical premise, established by Aristotle with his Principle of non-contradiction (PNC): The assertion that if something is conditionally “B,” it can’t be “A” at the same time, in the same place. That conditional principle underscores our sense of justice, ethics, legal system, and everything else. It defines the contemporary problems that lead to vast irresponsibility and abuse all the way from interpersonal relations to environmental destruction. The PNC is inconsistent with the interconnectedness of life.

The fact of the matter is that nothing fits with the desire of “is” or “is not.” Mahāyāna Buddhism teaches The Middle Way—that nothing is independent, discrete, and separate. Rather everything arises interdependently. One side (to exist) requires another side. This notion of dependent origination/relativity is the natural manifestation of emptiness (Śūnyatā), which states that nothing contains an intrinsic substance, which is to say that reality exists in two, inseparable dimensions at once, that Nagarjuna labeled Conventional and Sublime or in his teaching on Essence and Non-essence. Importantly he did not say that essence does not exist. Nor did he say that non-essence exists. What he did say is that these two live interdependently. They are mirror images of one another, and neither can exist without the other (much less be fathomed). These are just alternative names we use to represent form and emptiness, which The Heart Sutra says is a single, indivisible reality.

Is there a self (anatman/ego)? A Self (Atman)? These concepts are abstractions and fabrications. The Mahāyāna Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra directly addresses the question and says, without equivocation, that the Self is just another name for Buddha-dhatu/the true immaculate Self—the only substantial reality. It stretches the definition of a Buddhist to deny Buddha-nature. It also says that self (conceptual/ego) is an illusion—that we all create (a fabrication) to identify our ineffable true nature. 

Modern neurology confirms this intuitive insight revealing that the ego is a sort of hologram which serves the purpose of separating ourselves from others, and this separation is, like the ego concept, which creates it, an illusion. The Sūtra further says that the Tathagata (the Buddha—our true Self-nature) teaches with expedient means by first teaching non-self as a preliminary to teaching the true Self. The logic of that progression is nothing short of brilliant. Until such time as we wrestle with and defeat ego/self, we are not going to come to terms with our essential Self-nature. We will hold on until the death with “Me-ism.”

Science is a marvelous tool but is limited to measurability. Yet no one has ever been able to measure the true mind (much less even find it), which according to numerous Buddhist texts, is the Buddha. We have come a long way over the centuries and can measure things today, not even imagined previously. Does that mean that reality comes and goes according to the capacity of tools? NO! Truth stands alone and is not conditioned by progress, however marvelous.

To read the details of Nagarjuna’s perspective on how essence and non-essence depend upon each other, go to—On Examination of Essence; The Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way: Nagarjuna’s Mūlamadhyamakakārikā (Treatise of the Middle Way).

After all, is said and done, the bottom line is to not be so heavenly minded that we are of no earthly good. Our egos/virtual reality and our True Self/true reality come as a package deal. It is impossible to separate the two (which are One). The important thing is to be continuously aware of the eternally, indwelling spiritual Self of love, and accept with gratitude that our virtual selves originate and function there as a result. 

“If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs, it is then more elastic, more starry, more immortal—that is your success.” Henry David Thoreau

Readiness.

The road MOST traveled.

“The teacher appears when the student is ready.” Everyone has heard that metaphor, but what does it mean? It probably means different things to different people, but perhaps the central meaning concerns alternatives and choices.

It’s human nature to select the choice that entails the least effort and delivers the most bang for the buck. Why pay $100 for something if we can find something that works just as well for $1? But if we pay $100, we expect to get that much worth in return. But what if we don’t get the value we hoped for but instead get far less? And what if we keep spending the same $100 and keep getting shortchanged? After a certain point, we might want to try another tack. Then we’re ready.

The time is ready when we reach the ultimate end of a wrong road to a worse place, that keeps on delivering the ultimate lack of value. It can happen individually or culturally, and these two are not different since cultures are nothing more than grouped individuals. We are collectively and individually approaching a readiness of time. We have tried to attain ultimate value, and it isn’t working. The more we spend, the worse it gets and, it’s time to find out why it’s not working. What is preventing us from, what we all say, is so desperately sought? And what might that goal be? It’s love, happiness, fulfillment, joy, harmony, and peace.

These are the goals we have been seeking (acknowledged or not), and we’ve been traveling the wrong road to get there. The teacher is our natural, divine intelligence; our “true” mind—that doesn’t exist conceptually, yet nevertheless leads to a deeper source of wisdom and compassion that contains all that we’ve been seeking but not finding. The ego is a gatekeeper that denies access to what lies beyond and, consequently, the unknown remains unknown. 

The soul knows because the soul is closer to our central, spiritual core than the ego (which serves as the gatekeeper for “acceptable” dogma). However, without an awareness of a difference between experiencing and fantasizing—The context of our lives, out of which grows everything—we remain like a garden growing only weeds with no flowers. The realm of the soul is the storehouse where we experience what we say we are seeking (e.g., love, happiness, fulfillment, joy, harmony, and peace). It is also the source of adaptive wisdom, so needed in the world today, where we find the answers that help us survive. 

The goal is not “out there” on a path to nowhere. It is “in here” on the path to ourselves. And once we find our source, we realize that the idea we held of “ourselves” was wrong and far too limited in scope and character. When we get beyond that gatekeep, it is like coming home to the place we’ve never left, but previous to that very instant never knew existed.

What’s real?

Good and Evil.

To say what’s real, by necessity must consider the opposite—What’s not real. Nothing can be understood in isolation. It is only possible to understand one thing when compared to the opposite. Love means nothing in isolation from indifference. Likewise, evil is understood against the comparison of goodness. Not only do reality and unreality define each other, but they are also opposite to each other. Everything has these two dimensions. Up and down can only exist together. They define each other, and the same relationship applies to everything: Black/white, in/out, and seen/unseen. What can be seen has perceptible qualities. The unseen lacks perceptible qualities and thus can’t be seen.

The Buddhist understanding of the relationship between reality and unreality is not different from the Christian understanding. It uses different words but in essence, it is the same. Both the Buddhist view, together with the Christian perspective, provides a more thorough understanding. Consider the following:

“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”—2 Corinthians 4:18

Here, The Apostle Paul articulates the two sides of reality and points to how they are different. The seen is temporary but the unseen is eternal. What is eternal has no beginning nor end. However, what is seen has a beginning and an ending and is thus temporary. Where Buddhism differs from Christianity on this matter concerns opposing reality from unreality, or to use the Christian terms the unseen from the seen.

The dogmatic Christian teaching says that these two can be divided but when explored more thoroughly it can be shown that this dogmatic teaching is incorrect. The essential nature of God is love, which imbues the entire creation. The problem is not the reality of God’s love. The problem is one of perception. The love of God can’t be seen. It can only be experienced.

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”—Romans 8: 38-39

We are inclined to differentiate between the physical and the spiritual. The implication of this view is that the physical and the spiritual dimensions are different and can be isolated from each other. The question must be, “how is it possible to extricate what enlivens us from the vehicle that contains life?” Forget about labels. Set aside how precisely spirit and mind are distinctly different and just considers the indivisible nature of spirit and body.

A body with no spirit would be a zombie and a spirit without a body would be a ghost. The Bible teaches that God is the animating aspect of us. Buddhism teaches that it is the universal mind. Neither the mind nor God can be conceptually grasped. They may be the same thing with different labels. Whatever label we choose makes no difference but what does make a difference is the characteristics of what arises from both, which is unconditional love (agape in the case of Christian thought, and compassion in the case of Buddhist thought).

Removing even these labels leaves us with the identical character of both: the inseparable nature of God’s love. The Buddhist explanation is preferable because it deals more directly with the inseparable nature between the spiritual and the physical, the real, and the unreal. In essence, the Buddhist understanding is that what we ordinarily consider real is a mistaken conclusion based on the perceptible nature of form, which can be seen. All forms can be seen. Nothing spiritual can be seen. Form, as Paul says, is temporary, but God’s love is eternal, yet can’t be seen (only experienced).

The Buddhist language uses the dimensions of “form” and “emptiness” in place of “seen” and “unseen” but the meaning is nearly identical. Here is where the majesty and ultimate saving power takes place. The Buddhist perspective says that these two: “form” and “emptiness” are not two. They are one single, indivisible matter, just as up and down are inseparable, just as we are inseparable from God’s love. Nothing can… “separate us from the love of God.”

Emptiness is the mirror opposite from matter just as up is the mirror opposite from down. Emptiness is 100% spiritual yet it can’t be perceived or measured. It is whole and complete. It is like space: everywhere and unseen but contains everything perceptible. Emptiness is neither empty nor changing. Emptiness doesn’t move and has no perceptible characteristics. Emptiness is our spiritual core. It is what makes us conscious, sentient beings. Emptiness is also subject to dependent origination, which means that emptiness is also empty and binds it to form.

Emptiness, albeit unseen is whole, complete, and perfect already, and is the unseen part of you and me. The union can’t be broken just like the up/down union can’t be broken. If we tried to do away with one side, the other side would cease to exist. Sometimes this form/emptiness arrangement goes by the handles of conditional/unconditional. The conditional part is divided between polar opposites and subject to cause and effect. The unconditional part is unified and not subject to anything. Conditions change. Unconditional matters are fixed and these two require each other.

The solution for all of us is to understand three things:

1. When we attach our self-worth to what is seen (but temporary), we are setting ourselves up for eventual heartache because these things pass away.
2. When we identify ourselves with what is spiritually eternal (God’s love) we realize a lasting sense of peace and stability that can’t be shaken.
3. These two—the seen and the unseen, are two parts of the same thing but only one part is absolutely real (the love of God). The other part is relatively real. Reality is relative and absolute, conditional, and unconditional.

Nagarjuna explained this relationship in the following way:

“The Buddha’s teaching of the Dharma is based on two truths: a truth of worldly convention and an ultimate truth. Those who do not understand the distinction drawn between these two truths do not understand the Buddha’s profound truth. Without a foundation in the conventional truth the significance of the ultimate cannot be taught. Without understanding the significance of the ultimate, liberation is not achieved.”— The Mūlamadhyamakakārikā, (Fundamental Verses on the Middle Way), Nagarjuna

We are both the indivisible union of matter and spirit and the task of life is to work to realize the integration of these two but never question the inseparable nature of God’s love. How do we integrate? By being the agent of God’s love, first by accepting ourselves as the channel of divinity and then through action. We are the body of Christ and if Christ remains an intellectual abstraction instead of an indwelling reality, then there is no means of spreading God’s love and we are all doomed to rely solely on what passes away. Either God is real or not and there is an easy way to find out: Let go of ideas and start living a life of giving.

The presence (albeit unseen) is made evident through how we live our lives. It is what we produce, not what we say, that proves our divine nature. “You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorn-bushes or figs from thistles?” And how is that evidence understood? “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.” We create our own realities by being the agent of spiritual expression, either for good or for evil.

The Watcher

“Empty yourself of everything. Let the mind rest at peace. The ten thousand things rise and fall while the Self watches their return.”—The opening stanza of Chapter 16 of The Tao Te Ching

This post is more than likely going to result in a big yawn since the message should be self-evident, but probably not. Go see a movie (it’s instructive to my point), and you’ll undoubtedly notice two things: (1) You are sitting in your seat and (2) you’re seeing images moving on a screen. No-brainer. Watch TV; Same thing. Neither of those images is real, and you know that. 

So far, so good. Now take it to a not-so-evident level—You see the world, and it moves. There is still you, but is what you see real? That is taken for granted as being real, but as far as your mind is concerned it is no different from a movie or TV. Your true mind doesn’t distinguish. It just notices movement, and you could be asleep and, in principle, it is the same. Dreams come, they go, and there must be you who sees what moves. That you, the true Self, is a constant. Yet it is not yours. It never moves and it can’t be found. It just watches, listens, smells, tastes, and feels. It perceives everything but in itself is nothing.

“Look, and it can’t be seen. Listen, and it can’t be heard. Reach, and it can’t be grasped.

Above, it isn’t bright. Below, it isn’t dark. Seamless, unnamable, it returns to the realm of nothing. Form that includes all forms, image without an image, subtle, beyond all conception.

Approach it and there is no beginning; follow it and there is no end. You can’t know it, but you can be it, at ease in your own life. Just realize where you come from: this is the essence of wisdom.”—Chapter 14 of The Tao Te Ching

A Christmas message.

The name changes. The essence doesn't.

Suppose I said, “The universe is mine or ours.” Clearly, such a statement is delusional since the universe is pretty big, and to suggest that it belongs to you or me is ridiculous. But suppose I shortened the span of space and said, “The earth is mine or ours.” Smaller span but still pretty big and still ridiculous. How far down do we need to go before it stops being ridiculous? Or, for that matter, how much bigger? We could go all the way down to the quantum level or outward to the farthest expanse of space, and the essence of the statement won’t change. 

The word “The” is a definite article: something definite or unconditional. “The universe” is not contingent and isn’t altered by our presence, and isn’t waiting on anyone to possess it. Both “mine” and “ours” are forms of possessive pronouns, and both have the same meaning: To possess something. 

“My self” is different in meaning from “The self.” The first implies possession, and the second is independent, just as “My shirt” is different from “The shirt.” Okay, is it possible for anyone to possess himself or herself? Heck, we can’t even say what “The self” is, so how can it be possessed? In truth, nothing can be possessed since, in our true nature, there is no real self to possess anything.

We have this idea that we can know ourselves but, when we turn our eyeballs around and look within, nobody’s home. Some time ago, I wrote a post after reading Paul Brok’s book “Into the Silent Land.” Broks asks alarming and provocative questions such as “Am I out there or in here?” when he portrays an imaginary man with a transparent skull, watching in a mirror how his own brain functions. He notices, for us all, that the world exists inside the tissue residing between our ears. And when the tissue is carefully examined, no world, no mind, no self, no soul, no perceptual capacities, nor consciousness—nothing but inanimate meat is found. Unable to locate, what we all take for granted, he suggests that we are neither “in here” nor “out there,” maybe somewhere in between the space between the in and the out, and maybe nowhere at all.

It’s a mystifying perspective, yet all of us just continue on down the road without ever truly grasping who it is that’s continuing. Nagarjuna parsed this matter in various ways, but one of my favorites is his poem about walking, which ends this way... “These moving feet reveal a walker but did not start him on his way. There was no walker prior to departure. Who was going where?” There is no walker without walking, just as there is no thinker without thinking.

The Buddha properly pointed out that there is no discernible identity at the core of each of us, and we only begin to fabricate a self-image (ego) once we move and take action. Until then, there is no observable identity. The actions we take define who we are, not the ideologies to which we cling. Of course, what we think is usually followed by action. Without action, either for the good or the bad, we are no one at all. And when we remain still, we have a potential for unlimited either. Then we are silent and can dwell in the infinite space of tranquility, wholeness, peace, and readiness, which lies at the very heart of undifferentiated sentience.

On the other hand, when we imagine ourselves as distinctly unique individuals, we become an incomplete ego with definable differences that must possess and attach to forms to identify. That fabrication must possess and makes things mine. Then the universe, and all therein contained, stops being the universe and becomes my universe. This, however, doesn’t mean movement necessarily equates to being a possessive ego. So long as we remain aware of our genuine indefinable sentient nature and not a fabricated ego, our movement can be nonpossessive. We can continue as nonjudgemental members of indiscriminate humanity. 

What everyone will discover, if pursued, is that we exist and don’t exist at the same time. The “walker” only comes along with walking. The thinker only emerges with thinking, digestion only with eating, and the self with and through living. The question is, what or who sparks the process of all?

There’s a direct link between what we think and what we do. The Buddha said, “We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.” He then went on to say, “To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life; foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent.”  Jesus likewise pointed out that “the things that come out of a person’s mouth come from the heart, and these defile them. For out of the heart come evil thoughts—murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. These are what defile a person.” 

Today there is far too much negative rhetoric and inaction. Likewise, there is far too little positive thought and action in our world. As you open your gifts on Christmas day, think about the greatest of gifts: The gift of giving yourself to make the world a far, far better place. 

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.