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.

Fear, dust, roots and emancipation.

Our times and circumstances have changed much in the 13 years since I first wrote, published and posted, this to my blog (as written and quoted below) on 12/21/07.

• In that year, our US President was George W. Bush. 
• On April 16, a student went on a killing spree on the Virginia Tech Campus leaving over 30 students dead. 
• Rupert Murdoch acquired Dow Jones & Co, which includes the Wall Street Journal.
• Violent thunderstorms roared through parts of Alabama and three other US states in the region.
• One of the deadliest tornadoes in Kansas history destroyed Greensburg’s town as it took the brunt of 200 mph winds.
• Blizzards and severe snowstorms swept through Denver and the surrounding areas.
• One of the largest and deadliest fires in US history raged in Southern California, fanned by the Santa Ana winds destroying 400,000 acres and 2,000 homes.
• The Apple Computer Company announced the release of the very first iPhone.
• Apple Introduced its first-ever iTouch with built-in WiFi and touch screen, following the prior release of their iTouch on June 29th.
• NASA launched the Phoenix Mars Lander during August. The Phoenix spacecraft was launched from Cape Canaveral Air Force Station in Florida. It successfully landed on Mars during May 2008 and is used as an instrument to thoroughly examine the planet’s soil.
• The presidential candidates who decided to run for the highest office in the land—yes, that too was an election year—were (Republicans:) Mitt Romney, Rudi Guliani, John McCain, Mike Huckabee, Tommy Thompson, Duncan Hunter, Sam Brownback, Tom Tancredo, Jim Gilmore, Fred Thompson and (Democrats :) Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, John Edwards, Ron Paul, Mike Gravel, Chris Dodd, Bill Richardson, Joe Biden, Dennis Kucinich. Some had already dropped out by the end of 2007 before the race even begun. The outcome, which is now known, was the victory of Barack Obama—our 44th POTUS. 

These and many other circumstances occurred in 2007 and may be found by clicking here.

Now fast forward till today, in late 2020, and observe how times and circumstances have changed. All things are changing moment by moment. Changes too small to notice until a retrospective (such as this post) is presented for consideration. The seeds of current events were planted in 2007, and the seeds that evolved into events in that year were planted eons ago, moment by moment. No real dividing lines are demarcating one moment from the next, as though sequential stone walls were constructed in the space between moments. 

Instead, karma underpins all conditions. It is the foundation of the life we know. It flows like droplets merged into a moving stream, no longer detected as droplets but rather as indivisible water. Such is the nature of conditional life. “What you are is what you have been. What you’ll be is what you do now.”—The Buddha

Some things, however, remain the same. The wisdom that transcends time and place remains the same. That is what follows and may be summarized as fear, dust, and emancipation—being set free, which all desire.

“Also, emancipation is non-apprehension. One who has apprehension may be likened to a king who fears and slanders the strong neighboring state and has apprehension. Now, with emancipation, there is nothing of the kind. This is like annihilating enmity, as a consequence of which there is no longer any apprehension. The same is the case with emancipation. It has no apprehension or fear. Non-apprehension is the Tathagata.

Also, there is no dust or defilement in emancipation as when in the spring months, after sundown, the wind raises up a cloud of dust. Now, in emancipation, nothing of this kind obtains. Where there is no cloud of dust, there is true emancipation. True emancipation is the Tathagata.

Also, emancipation is fearlessness. It is like the lion, who has no fear of any beast. The same is the case with emancipation. It has no fear of any Maras. Fearlessness is true emancipation. True emancipation is the Tathagata.

Also, emancipation subdues all kinds of indolence. One who is indolent is greedy. With true emancipation, nothing such as this comes about. This is true emancipation. True emancipation is the Tathagata.

Also, emancipation is segregating oneself from all existences, excising all suffering, obtaining all aspects of peace, and eternally cutting off desire, ill-will, and ignorance, and severing oneself from the roots of all illusions. Cutting the roots of illusion [ doubt] is emancipation. True emancipation is the Tathagata.”

From The Mahaparinirvana Sutra—Chapter 7

Overcoming natural delusions

I’ve written about this issue before, but our divided response to the current political race for a new POTUS deserves review. This is a textbook case to illustrate three fundamental Buddhist teachings—The correspondence between attachment, suffering, and karma. 

Some time ago I listened to a radio interview with Wall Street trader and psychologist, Dr. Richard Peterson. During the interview Dr. Peterson was speaking about the two primary, motivating factors for investing. The two were greed and fear and he said that fear was twice as potent as greed in determining investor behavior. While investors desired increases, they were more concerned with losing.

Dr. Peterson didn’t say these emotions had anything to do with Buddhist teachings or politics, but as I listened I could see the three-headed hydra of attachment flailing about, as well as the wish to escape from the consequences of past choices. On the one hand—greed—the excess of possessiveness, and on the other—fear—lies the illusion of permanence. 

The Dharma teaches us about the impermanence of all things. What goes up eventually comes down and it doesn’t matter whether it is water, money, or nations—thus the saying, “Easy come; easy go.” The other Buddhist fundamental (karma) teaches us that we reap the product of whatever seeds we plant, whether individually or collectively.

Many years ago I cut my spiritual teeth on a book I thought radical at the time. The book was The Wisdom of Insecurity by Alan Watts. I remember his central point as if it were yesterday. His point was that we have an upside-down understanding of what leads to fulfillment. We yearn for security, which we equate with permanence, yet the only aspect of life which may produce this is something no longer living. 

The most basic definition of “phenomenal life” is fluidity—continuous change, whether we notice it or not. That was his Wisdom—That life is insecure, so don’t become attached. Love when you love. Cry when you cry. And know that such conditions will change. Be genuine (no pretense...joy and sadness are real human emotions) and know that change is inevitable. This is great wisdom, full of hope and patience.

And how very different this wisdom is from what we see today. The illusion of permanence leads investors, lovers, and citizens to cling to fortunes made and to resist their loss, and neither behavior produces fulfillment. Nor does it work for us to plant seeds of evil and expect to reap fruits of joy. What we all need is a wake-up call and a strong dose of Watts Wisdom. Resist our natural tendencies to act out of fear, and take responsibility for whatever choices we make. We can learn from this crisis and be better for it. 

It ain't my job!

Some years ago, my teacher painted calligraphy for me that said, “A single drop of rain waters 10,000 pines.” While not literally true, it was a metaphor that spoke to this idea that all it takes is one ray of light to cut through the darkness and open up the possibility that other lights will follow. This morning I came across a similar expression: “Everything was impossible until someone did it.” I like that idea, but unfortunately, too often, many essential matters remain impossible because we are waiting for someone else to do what is needed.

Maybe it is just human nature to have this attitude that it ain’t my job and assume that what needs doing is undoubtedly being done by somebody else. But is that assumption correct? It’s been my experience during a reasonably long life that the premise is wrong. The evidence of the fallacy is everywhere around us. I see it with the growing volume of mail asking for donations to help those in need. The lines of people standing in soup kitchens keep growing while wealthy politicians suck the financial life of our nation off for themselves and make decisions to cut off support for the needy. I’ve seen it since childhood when I noticed people going to church and listening intently (or so it seemed) to sermons but then going on with their ordinary lives of selfishness. The earth’s atmosphere keeps getting hotter and hotter, and many people stay in states of denial for the same reason—surely somebody else will solve this problem. Still, the prevailing attitude of, I’m too busy with more important matters remains a dominant force.

I remember a story from childhood about the little red hen who kept asking for help baking her bread, and nobody offered assistance, yet when it came time to eat, everyone wanted a portion. Then, of course, there is the Aesop Fable of the grasshopper and the ants. The grasshopper played away the time of harvest while the ants stored food away for the hard times of winter. Then there is the story of a dog in the manger who wouldn’t eat what was offered but sure as heck didn’t want to share what he saw as “his.” Supposedly Aesop lived roughly 2,600 years ago in ancient Greece. The dog in the manger story appeared in both the apocryphal Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of Matthew, so it would appear that human nature hasn’t changed much in a long time.

In the East, it is called karma. Colloquially we have the expression, “What goes around, comes around.” The principle addresses what follows actions (either for the good or bad) and is universal, regardless of time or place. We know the guide yet mostly ignore the wisdom. The question is, why? More than likely, the answer comes from a conflict between continuously changing conditions and priorities stuck in time. When sea changes occur, we all have the choice either clinging to preferences that fall in the grand scheme or adapting.

I’ve written about this latter matter and observed, “The first step toward success is taken when you refuse to be a captive of the environment in which you first find yourself.” You can read about it in my post of Small Steps. Nobody can drink the whole ocean at once, but one sip followed by another, with patience and perseverance, enables us to move mountains.

The point of my post this morning is that our assumptions are, more times than not, merely delusional. What needs to be done to make our world a habitable and desirable place to live for our selves and our loved ones into the future depends on what we do today because collectively, we are creating our tomorrows’ moment by moment. Each day we have the opportunity to create a better world or a worse one. We make either heaven or hell with a single drop of rain, or not. Every positive action, however small it may be, makes a difference. Contrary to the title of this post, it is my job, because there is nobody but me’s of this world to do it.

The bucket rule of politics and economics

There's a hole in our bucket

I taught our daughter economics, at an early age. And my teaching device was an old bucket. I punched a few holes in the bottom of the bucket and then she started pouring in water, which of course ran out the holes. Then I punched in more holes and she again poured in water. This time she had to pour in more water at a faster rate. 

Eventually, I completely removed the bottom of the bucket and she discovered that no amount of water could be used to fill the bucket; it ran out as fast as she could pour it in. Then I said to her, “Water is like money. Unless you balance what you pour in with what comes out the bottom you’ll never succeed in having any money left over.” She understood. Our government never has.

Right now the spigot that regulates the flow is severely restricted, yet the out-flow is at a record high. What used to supply our needs—tax revenues from the middle class—is disappearing at an alarming rate leaving only one source: those with money, to pick up the tab. And this restriction is coinciding with a bucket with ever-growing holes. Republicans are crying foul and claiming class warfare. But I have a simple-minded question: Who pays? It requires lots of water to pour into a bucket with a disappearing bottom. The poor can’t pay. The middle-class is rapidly shrinking, so that leaves only those who can pay, but don’t.

There are presently lots of naysayers who say that the wealthy will just pull up anchor and flee to more favorable shores. Indeed they may and have. Nothing can stop them except only one thing: A sense of public responsibility. For far too long just about everyone, from the wealthy down to the chronically poor, have shed a sense of public responsibility and milked the system for every drop. Now we face a serious emergency and it remains to be seen if anyone, rich or poor, will change course and do the right thing. If not, then our prosperity will end rather quickly.

Presently Congress is in the process of making a bad situation worse by creating policies that make the rich richer and the poor poorer. They take pride in enhancing the wealth of the prosperous (knowing if they do so they will be rewarded, under the table) while ensuring the death of millions due to mismanagement of a pandemic, people losing their jobs, and getting tossed out on the streets. Does this have anything to do with Zen? I think it does and here’s how: The essence of Zen is to bypass delusion and see clearly—things as they are, not as we wish them to be. Wishful thinking got us all into this mess and now we have lots of holes, not enough water, and are on the verge of disaster. 

Another parallel is the understanding that we are all connected. The super-wealthy may desire exclusive independence, but such a thing is not possible. In a civilized society, we share lots of things: The air we breathe, the water we drink, a common infrastructure that either allows prosperity or sinks us all, a food and money supply, and many other points of intersection. 

The notion that anyone can milk the system and get off scot-free is delusional. Individually and collectively we create karma either for the good or for the bad. We have no choice except to live with what we collectively create. And to continue with an ideological logjam while people are starving is madness. The resources of our nation do not belong to politicians. We supply these resources through our blood, sweat, and tears, and for the people in Washington to withhold what we have contributed is outrageous! We elected these people to represent us, not kill us. It’s 11:59 and unless we collectively wake up, midnight and the nightmares that come along will soon be here.

The cost of ignorance.

Some say we come into this world as a blank slate, upon which is

A high cost to pay.

 written the moment-by-moment experiences of mortal life. Nature vs. nature is the handle applied to this view. Accordingly, “nature” is the blank slate (with potential unrealized), and “nurture” is what is written, which leads to realizing (or not) that potential.

In Western philosophy, the concept of tabula rasa can be traced back to the works of Aristotle in his treatise De Anima (Περί Ψυχῆς, “On the Soul”). Consequently, given the Western roots, the philosophy continues to this day as an underpinning of Western psychology. This perspective presumes mortal life is a “one-and-done” proposition. One-shot (either for good or not) determines our destiny and where our soul goes following mortal death. 

On the other side of the world, however, an alternate perspective arose—karmic seeds—the essence of karma. When karma is dormant, it sleeps in this seed form. When it is latent, it exists as samskaras, embedded beliefs deep in the mind's unconscious zone, and as liminal fantasies encountered in dreams, hypnotic states, and meditation. When it is active, it is present in all seven levels, and we are aware of the force of craving or desire.

Whereas the Western view is a “one-and-done” proposition, the Eastern view is one of transmigration and reincarnation. In this sense, “life” isn’t purely mortal (which passes away—dust to dust) but is rather the “dust” plus immortality, with the soul being the vehicle within which the karmic seeds travel that predetermines unconscious vectors. Rather than “one and done,” this perspective is a “do-over” until we get it right. Thus, perfection is not an impossible, abstract, flawless mortal condition but is instead the end of attainment, stretching over eons.

These two perspectives produce very different senses of possibility. On the one hand, we believe that we are all flawed beings (and thus excessively tolerant of egregious behaviors) in need of divine salvation, or we’re in for a quick trip to a scorching place. The other perspective is one of infinite grace—recognizing that true life evolves as a learning experience that never ends until Nirvana is realized. The understanding of Nirvana is greatly distorted in the West. In simple to grasp terms, the word means the extinguishment of the three poisons—greed, anger, and ignorance associated with experiencing oneself as an ego. It is not some mythical place but rather a state of mind, achievable by realizing a person’s genuine nature hidden deep within the unconscious mind. 

By the time I arrived at the seminary and learned about tabula rasa, I had experienced a mind-blowing transformation that was not intellectual but rather intuitive. Then I had the advantage of a comparative frame of reference, and upon further exploration, I came to understand matters of my own mind I would never have come to given my own Western roots.

In seminary, I learned how to read the New Testament in the language originally used, that of Koine Greek: A Greek form no longer used but was used when the Greek Philosophers walked the earth. Obviously, Aristotle knew and used Koine Greek but must not have known the significance of the thorny crux of original sin—that everyone is flawed, in need of divine salvation, going back to the mythical sin of Adam and Eve. His lack of awareness concerning this dogma, of course, makes sense, but only when explored. Aristotle was born in 385 BCE and died 62 years later in 323 BCE. On the other hand, The Christian Bible canons (containing both the Old and New Testaments, wherein the creation myth existed) weren’t completed until the 5th century CE. Consequently, he knew nothing of the original sin's ideology, but he did understand the nature of a completed journey.

And how would I know that? Because of one single word (written in Koine Greek) that had to be one of transmigration instead of “one-and-done.” And the word in question is “perfection,” which, when written in Koine Greek, is teleos meaning “the end result.” Instead of using the word as a foundational principle of salvation, Aristotle saw perfection in a frame of nature, saying: “Nature does nothing in vain.” The philosophy itself suggests that acts are done with a foregone purpose in mind—people do things knowing the result they wish to achieve, and this in turn strongly suggest coming into this world, not as a blank slate but rather with seeds growing to a pre-determined (e.g., karmic seeds) conclusion.

The dogma of genetic flaw—going back to the creation story myth—has created countless tragedies over the vast expanse of time. The hope of ever achieving perfection (as a state of being without flaw in a “one-and-done” lifetime has caused untold billions to reach their end in a state of profound fear), all due to ignorance, the very thing The Buddha pointed out that was the heart of suffering:

“What is that smothers the world? What makes the world so hard to see? What would you say pollutes the world and threatens it the most?’ ‘It is ignorance that smothers,’ the Buddha replied, ‘and it heedlessness and greed, making the world invisible. The hunger of desire pollutes the world, and the great source of fear is the pain of suffering.”

Karma and Predestination

Fate vs. Karma

I’m somewhat of a hybrid anomaly. I never consciously intended to become spiritual, yet it happened anyway. Nor did I ever plan to study religions, yet that too occurred. It all began with a seeming mistake that led me into Yoga (Hatha at first), and have discovered how well it worked physically, I decided to explore further and found that Hatha was one of many forms of Yoga, one of which is Dhyāna Yoga (The Seventh Limb of Yoga). It was/is also known as the means of emerging Samādhi (mystical absorption), the aim of all Yogic practices, and the eighth step of the Buddha’s Nobel Eight Fold path toward enlightenment. I later learned that Dhyāna was the ancient Sanskrit name for what we now know as Zen.

And that became the path I followed (the Rinzai form) that changed my life. I never saw it coming. It’s similar to being blindsided by COVID, but with a different outcome. And once I had experienced and reaped the fruit of the path of awakening, I chose to return to school and obtain a degree in divinity as an ordained Christian Minister. This all happened after I had lived a lot of life, much of it challenging and full of suffering.

Fast forward forty-plus years later, and during recent times, I have wondered if all of this was just a fluke of destiny or perhaps a reflection of something unseen, more profound, yet nevertheless real—may be an extension of karma, or maybe even predestination, both of which I had learned through my own experience and in-depth study.

There is something I don’t like about either the idea of my destiny being predetermined or paying the price for my errors. Nevertheless, when I examine my life in hindsight, it is hard to ignore how it could have happened by serendipity or happenstance. So the question I have recently pondered whether there could be any validity to either idea (karma or predestination). Both rankle me, yet both might be true despite my distaste.

Karma makes much sense as cause and effect on a conditional plane. Feedback loops surround us everywhere—from an interpersonal level all the way to nature. It happens in the water cycle, and it happens when we attack someone. And it does not appear to be limited to individuals who seem separate and apart from other people. Still, as chaos theory tells us, the flap of a butterfly’s wings in South America eventually becomes a hurricane moving across the Atlantic from the coast of Africa. We must call that “collective karma”—The impact of everything linked together. What goes around comes around, and it’s hard to ignore the obvious. 

What could be more obvious is how karma continues from mortal life into the next. Once we die (mortally), logically, it is less evident that we carry forward what was incomplete in a previous mortal life. However, much of what I have experienced in this incarnation doesn’t seem possible to have occurred through happenstance. So there is some substance to continuing karma.

Predestination is somewhat akin to karma in that our mortal vector appears as a continuation—a righteous one that stems from the residue of previous mortal incarnations. If you buy into reincarnation, then why would it not make sense that we begin with a residue of unfinished business (e.g., karmic seeds carried forward within the eighth consciousness—Sanskrit, alayavijnana, thus the “pre” of destiny. Buddhist thought affirms that notion, and I can see the wisdom: A sort of do-over-opportunity to advance in our quest toward completion and enlightenment.

I do, however, question the validity of the sort of predestination proposed by John Calvin: Double predestination—the belief that God appointed the eternal destiny of some to salvation by grace while leaving the remainder to receive eternal damnation for all their sins. That notion directly contradicts the doctrine of unconditional love in the New Testament unless you see eternal damnation as “tough love.”

The final analysis comes down to belief and dogma, which The Buddha was adamantly opposed to, as expressed in the Kalama Sutra. The people of Kalama asked the Buddha whom to believe out of all the ascetics, sages, venerables, and holy ones who passed through their town like himself. They complained that they were confused by the many contradictions they discovered in what they heard. The Kalama Sutra is the Buddha’s reply.

• “Do not believe anything on mere hearsay.

• Do not believe in traditions merely because they are old and have been handed down for many generations and in many places.

• Do not believe anything on account of rumors or because people talk a great deal about it.

• Do not believe anything because you are shown the written testimony of some sage.

• Do not believe in what you have fancied, thinking because it is extraordinary, it must have been inspired by a god or other wonderful being.

• Do not believe anything merely because the presumption is in favor or because the custom of many years inclines you to take it as true.

• Do not believe anything merely on the authority of your teachers or priests.

• But, whatever, after thorough investigation and reflection, you find to agree with reason and experience as conducive to the good and benefit of one and all and of the world at large, accept only that as true and shape your life in accordance with it.

The same text, said the Buddha, must be applied to his own teachings.

Do not accept any doctrine from reverence, but first, try it as gold tried by fire.”

Karma and the Wheel of Life and Death.

Everyone has days when they think to themself, “This really sucks. How did I get myself into this mess?” For no apparent reason, life just seems to take a sharp turn, and we find ourselves in the off-ramp. 

Actually, there is a reason but not one that is readily apparent. The reason is contained in the dharma teaching of the Wheel of Life and Death leading to suffering, which we surely do when such a day hits us. That’s the bad news. The good news is that this wheel has another side called the Wheel of Dharma. One side explains how we got ourselves into this mess. The other side tells us how we can find relief (emancipation). The teaching says that both sides are reflections of karma—bad karma on one side, good karma on the other. Today we’ll look at the bad news, and tomorrow we’ll end on a positive note. 

So how does karma work? Karma spreads much like an indiscriminate virus. It affects everyone, spreads like wildfire, and has nothing to do with hopes, prayers, or anything of a religious nature.  It’s like this: Picture yourself on a dusty road on a sweltering and sweaty day. Every step you take, you’re kicking up dust, which goes airborne where it sticks like mud to your sweaty body and enters your mouth and lungs. In a nutshell, that’s karma: Cause and effect. You kicked up the dust, and you suck it in. No dust, no sucking. Of course, there are other people on that same road, and all of your dust kickings migrates to them as well. So not only do we have an impact on our self, but we impact them also. They don’t like it, and neither do we, but the responsibility lies firmly with us. We did the kicking.

Now the best thing is to not kick up the dust in the first place, or spread a virus. The second best thing is to own up to what we’ve done and make a wrong, right. Avoidance is always the preferred route, but sometimes kicking dust (or catching a virus) is unavoidable, and we make wrong without the intention to do so. There are, of course, some who seem to take sadistic pleasure in doing wrong, but as the saying goes, “What goes around, comes around.” So that’s karma, but now let’s see how we get on this dusty road in the first place. Wouldn’t it be better to walk along a dustless path? That’s tomorrow’s story. Today is about viruses, dust, and grit, and mud in the mouth.

In the Mahaparinirvana Sutra, the Buddha taught about many causal links. The most critical causal link pertains to the dust (my metaphor). Here is how this link plays out. It starts out with branches high up on a tree of misery. It is called The miserly mind, greed, and jealousy, which comes from a trunk of ignorance, which in turn arises from indolence, which comes from inversions of truth (four inversions), which comes from a taproot called doubting mind. These causal links are like a tree. At the bottom is a root that grows upward into branches of bad karma.

So let’s start at the bottom (the taproot), which the Buddha says is doubting mind. This root is easy to understand, given our nature as sensory beings. We trust what we can lay our hands on and question what we can’t. Form is tangible stuff. Emptiness is not. We see a form and think, “that’s it—nothing else.” It takes a leap of faith to go beyond form and accept emptiness. Most of us are remiss in taking that leap since a leap into the unknown is fraught with fear. That’s doubting mind.

Doubting mind morphs into the four truth inversions. What are the four? They are Bliss/Suffering, Eternal/impermanent, Self/non-self, and Pure/impure. These are like four two-sided coins with truth on one side and inversions on the other. Without the leap out of doubting mind, we find our self distorting truth (inverting it). We imagine that everything is impure, egotistical, impermanent, and full of suffering. After all, isn’t that one of the Buddha’s premiere teachings—life is suffering? Yes, it is, but that is just the first of four noble truths, and if we stop there, we miss the pay-off: there is a way off this dusty path. Doubting leaves us stuck with these four inversions. Acting on faith leads us to a better path with no dust (tomorrow).

Okay, let’s move along to the next link in the chain: indolence. There are a couple of definitions of indolence, (1) avoidance, and (2) fear stemming from a lack of confidence. The first definition could apply for a host of reasons. Avoidance is what we might do when we are persuaded of a particular point of view. We know this condition as denial or clinging or close-mindedness. It occurs when we are attached to something and are not open to other possibilities, even when those other possibilities could positively restructure our lives. The second way of considering indolence is fear, with a similar outcome. A lack of confidence can be like an excuse for doing nothing when something needs to be done. Knowledge is not an issue. Doubt-based fear is. Which leads to hesitation and inaction. In either case, indolence keeps us stuck because of doubt. Because of indolence, we stay on that dusty path absolutely convinced that it is the only path, and we are just going to get used to it.

Now we’re moving up the tree and starting to branch out. Next comes ignorance. When we cling to a particular perspective, come Hell or high water, we are subject to ignorance (close-minded). What started with doubt, transformed into avoidance, and that leaves us ignorant. On the other hand, when we leap out in faith, we discover what would otherwise not be possible, but that is tomorrow’s story.

Being close-minded and ignorant makes us cranky and produces a nasty attitude which the Buddha calls a miserly mind, replete with greed and jealousy. Well, that makes sense, doesn’t it? When we are persuaded that all is suffering with no way off the dusty path with endless mouths full of mud, we get possessive, greedy, and jealous. Those other folks seem to be getting ahead of us, the storms are coming and we better batten down the hatch. Nobody wants to be around a greedy miser who is defensive, possessive, jealous, and hostile. And guess what? We just defined bad karma and a lot of people we know of.

All of this from that evil tap root spewing up poison and growing a bad tree, which is called the Wheel of Life and Death. And the reason it is called that is because such behavior keeps producing suffering, which causes us to just keep on repeating until we get tired of the misery we create for ourselves and adopt a better way. But that better way violates everything we think we know but might be worth a shot. Who needs dust in the mouth? Tomorrow, a better path—The Wheel of Dharma. Now that we understand the Wheel of Life and Death, the opposite should be easy to explain (but hard to do).

Karma and the Wheel of Dharma

Wheel of The Dharma

Yesterday we looked at the causal links that produce bad karma. Today we’ll look at the other side—the wheel of Dharma, leading to good karma and emancipation. 

One of the essential points discussed yesterday was, “Acting on faith…” The question is, faith in what? And the answer is faith in the other side of form. Faith that there really is this thing called emptiness (otherwise known as pure consciousness): The dimension that contains truth, rather than inversions of truth.

To remind you, the inversions of truth were suffering, impermanence, non-self, and life of impurity. The reason that faith is required is that emptiness is not accessible through our ordinary sensory faculties, and to get to that place of truth we must let go of what we can sense only, and are so sure of what we think we know—the ordinary manner of discernment. The path to truth is spiritual rather than perceptual. 

When we follow that path, then we experience the opposite of truth inversions. The dimensions of manifested truth are bliss, permanence, our true self, and a life of indiscriminate purity: the realm of consciousness without conditions and the joint actions of the right choices and judgments. This is the realm where everything is unified before or after consciousness takes shape or form (which is a myth we use for the sake of convenience; time is a fabrication—there is no actual time). Albert Einstein made a similar observation: “Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.” That being the case, there is no such thing as this or that: No self-absorbed choices, or judgments, and thus no error.

When we make choices, we believe those choices are right, in an unexamined way, we attach these choices to our unenlightened sense of self and become self-righteousness, defensive, and often hostile in our defense. And this belief, along with wrong concomitant actions, can at times lead us to be close-minded and violently defensive. There are numerous problems with this approach, and all of these put dust in our mouths, infects us (and others) with bad karma, and forces us to see who is to blame: Our deluded sense of self.

When most people think about “compassion,” they think of Buddhism. And in fact, this is accurate portraiture. Unfortunately, our idea of compassion, without transformation of our idea of self, is usually a way of gaining the accolades of others and fueling our egos. We may do the right thing but with a desire for applause. Unlike today, The Buddha didn’t recommend fueling our self-image or anesthetizing ourselves through drugs or make-nice-ego-building therapy. That’s the approach of today, but more than likely, that is not what The Buddha had in mind. He did not seem to be in favor of sustaining long term suffering through indolence. Quite the contrary, he may have been the original tough-love advocate. What he seemed to have recommended was to take off the rose-colored glasses and look deeply into how we create our own suffering. He prescribed harsh medicine, which was designed to make it crystal clear who was doing what to whom and recommended 12 chains of interdependent causal links that pointed the finger at us. As Pogo said, “We have seen the enemy, and it is us.”

Tough-love for sure, but his wisdom was flawless. None of us will take the necessary leap into the void of pure, unconditional consciousness until we see beyond a shadow of a doubt that the dusty road is intolerable, and we’re not going to take it anymore. More than likely, he wanted us to see beyond any doubt that we alone create our own path to destruction. When we follow the conditional, dualistic path, leading to choices and judgments of one thing versus another thing (in this case, life versus death), we get clear about the futility of our presumptions and beliefs. And what exactly did he want us to see?

What do most of us believe? We believe in what we perceive: The four inversions of truth—that life is impermanent, dominated by a false self (which we call ego), completely impure and over the top with suffering. Why is that? Quite simply, the perception-based means of discernment is designed for choosing between one thing and another thing, and when we couple this to a false self, we become self-righteous, defensively so. 

Now pause here and think about a serious question. Does anyone reading this really believe that Buddhism could last for 2,500 years as a significant force for emancipation if it was based on those four inversions? Even the village idiot could come up with that list, and the whole proposition would evaporate before it reached anyone’s perceptual capacities. So why did he want us to see the futility of those patently obvious facts? Because combined, they define how to keep eating dust and infecting others. He wanted us to be very clear about that. He wanted to teach us all about Nirvana vs. Saṃsāra, how they are related, how to get off of the path to perdition, and what to do to solve this universal problem that destroys everything. Only when we stand at the precipice of the mortal abyss will any of us choose a new path.

So if that combination doesn’t work—and it never has and never will—what will get us off the dusty path? Well, how about the opposite: Faith in the unseen realm of indiscriminate unity. This prescription is the ultimate form of dependent origination and is also what came to be known as The Two Truth Doctrine. This is the Wall that the Ladder of form rests against. Form is empty consciousness applied; Empty consciousness is form without application. The eternal, pure, blissful self is what has gone by the name of Buddha-Nature: our true nature—pure consciousness, which flows across the mythical bridge into form. 

In fact, there is no bridge since Buddha-nature/consciousness is undivided. Separation is just an idea that we choose to believe for many reasons. We imagine separation because we can’t perceive the void and thus assume that it doesn’t exist. And furthermore, our ideas concerning a void, are flawed. Emptiness is not actually empty. It is instead the wellspring of unadulterated wisdom and right vision—Unconditional truth. Or expressed alternately, The Dharmakaya: Body of truth, or The Womb of The Buddha that exists in us all. We, too, can awaken, and The Buddha gave us a road-map. 

We have too much dust in our eyes (a plank, if you prefer) and clouding our minds and don’t realize that without consciousness (The Dharmakaya), no detection of any form would be possible. The entire universe is a function of consciousness, or said another way: The universe is nothing other than the primordial mind in manifestation: The residual karma we previously created and the result, that The Buddha taught us about in the Mahāyāna Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, “Seeing the actions of body and mouth, we say that we see the mind. The mind is not seen, but this is not false. This is seeing by outer signs.”  Of course, the actual mind is the source (consciousness) and, as such, can’t see itself. We can only perceive fabricated (imaginary form) manifestations. The ego-mind of duality is self-creating, self-destructive, and pleasure-seeking at the expense of others. That is not the real mind. It is the fabricated mind with ego at the core.

So how exactly do we awaken to this awareness? How does it function? The same way that the other tree functioned from the taproot upward into branches of good karma. At the bottom is a tap root without doubt, which we call faith—in the unseen source (emptiness). Faith grows upward into four truths, instead of inversions. These truths then move up to the opposite of indolence, which is openness, receptivity, and confidence, which in turn destroys ignorance and turns a mind that is miserly, greedy, and jealous into a joyous mind that is giving, and sharing.

When this turn-about takes place, we meet our true self for the very first time. The Buddha said this about this transformation: “If impermanence is killed, what there is, is eternal Nirvana. If suffering is killed, one must gain bliss; if the void is killed, one must gain the real. If the non-self is killed, one must gain the True Self. Oh, great King! If impermanence, suffering, the Void, and the non-self are killed, you must be equal to me.” He was speaking to King Ajatasatru in the 25th chapter of the Mahāyāna Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra. 

Now comes two big questions: If we understand this message correctly, isn’t The Buddha saying that when this transformation occurs, doesn’t that eliminate the duality of discrimination, which makes us equal with one another and with the Buddha? And which of those two types would you rather hang out with? A loaded question for sure, but the answer should be crystal clear. Bad karma flows from one path (the dusty, infectious one), and good karma flows from the other path (one lined with gold). 

Never let it be said that our presumptions and beliefs don’t dominate us. What we believe will radically transform our lives.
I’ll end for today with a parable of two sons from The Dharma:

There once lived two sons of a king. Each of the sons became gravely ill, and the royal doctor was summoned. Upon a thorough examination, the royal doctor prescribed an unusual medication. Not being familiar with the medication, the sons were apprehensive. The first son clung tightly to conventional medications normally prescribed, became worse, and died. The surviving son saw clearly what had occurred with his brother because of doubt. Upon witnessing his brother’s death, he became desperate. Despite his preconceived beliefs and the unconventional nature of the doctor’s prescription, he overcame his doubt and decided to follow the advice of the royal doctor. To his amazement, his leap of faith resulted in an unexpected outcome: What began as apprehension and fear of the unknown, developed into a trusting relationship with the doctor, and he soon became well. In time the relationship between the wise son and the doctor blossomed, and the son was rewarded: The doctor shared his cherished remedies, not known to conventional doctors. And thus, his knowledge survived through the wise son who passes such knowledge on to all who are receptive and can likewise overcome their seeds of doubt.

The son who doubted and died is everyman. The royal doctor is the Tathagata, and the wise son represents all who hear of the unconventional remedy, overcome their doubt, and live. These will continue on and pass to others the good and certain medications of the doctor—they are the Bodhisattvas of the dharma.

In this mortal incarnation, I’ve been both sons. I spent a lot of time on that dusty path, in my egotistically, blinded state of mind, followed the path most taken, suffered a great amount, and refused to take the unorthodox medicine. The truth is that I was ignorant and not even aware there was any medicine, orthodox or otherwise. I nearly died, mortally, but while standing at the abyss, I happened upon the good doctor who had always been there, (unseen) and figured I had nothing to lose by switching to the road less traveled, ingesting unorthodox medicine and that saved me. Now I pass it on to you. 

And BTW: My present incarnation (as I appear to others) is that of a Gemini with two aspects, cemented together in a state of dependent origination (as we all are). Not only am I aware of both sides, the nature of them both, and just how they are needed to exist, but also able to see how my own karma is being created, as it unfolds. It is sort of like watching my own created movies and knowing I am the creator, the director, all of the actors, and the one sitting in a seat, located in a theater of the mind, but knowing simultaneously that the actual Mind is The Watcher, observing, but without judgment. So the ending question here is this: How do you like infecting those you supposedly love? And how does dust taste? And are you ready to take a leap of faith into emptiness and start living well?

In the world: enlightened social responsibility.

Covered with the slim of injustice

There appears to be a contradictory challenge in many spiritual pursuits. Picking and choosing often seem like resisting “just” action resulting from self-inflicted karma of the past. And by resisting, we attempt to alleviate our suffering by violating the principle of karmic justice, thus contributing to more bad karma and corresponding suffering. We rarely recognize how such suffering leads to the eradication of the ego and on to a higher level of spiritual life.

On the other hand, there is a temptation to avoid appropriate social responsibility based on the flawed notion that those who suffer deserve to because of their own past karma, and by interdicting this process we merely exacerbate their learning process, sparing them from spiritual advancement.—Side note: My significant other has a problem remembering this word, which means “to worsen.” Instead, she inserts the one word she can remember, that sounds the same but has a different meaning: masturbate, which significantly alters the meaning 😉. Closely aligned with this avoidance comes the matter of discrimination and judgment. We know that to discriminate between good and evil seems to necessarily involve judgment. So how do we walk this razor’s edge between enlightened social responsibility while not tampering with the karmic process leading to a heightened spiritual awareness?

There is a delicate balance between being in the world but not of the world: the fine line of being flawed and not flawed at the same time. To clarify this seeming dilemma, it is perhaps helpful to turn to a couple of ancient stories and a few contemporary examples. 

The first story concerns Huike the second Chán (e.g., the Chinese precursor of Zen) patriarch. He was a scholar in both Buddhist scriptures and classical Chinese texts. Huike met his teacher Bodhidharma (the first patriarch), at Shaolin Temple in 528 CE when he was about 40 years of age. Legend has it that Bodhidharma initially refused to teach Huike who then stood in the snow outside Bodhidharma’s cave all night until the snow reached his waist. In the morning, Bodhidharma asked him why he was still there. Huike replied that he wanted a teacher to “open the gate of the elixir of universal compassion to liberate all beings.” Bodhidharma refused, saying, “How can you hope for true religion with little virtue, little wisdom, a shallow heart, and an arrogant mind? It would just be a waste of effort.” Finally, to prove his resolve, Huike cut off his left arm and presented it to Bodhidharma as a token of his sincerity. He was then accepted as a student, and Bodhidharma changed his name from Shenguang Ji (his secular surname) to Huike, which means “Wisdom and Capacity.” Try to imagine the depth of anguish Huike must have endured before this, that inspired him with such motivation and determination. Can any of us, in honesty, say that we show that sort of resolve?

Huike did not immediately display wisdom but instead struggled to find The Way. It took some years before he found the key that unlocked the gate of the elixir of universal compassion to liberate all beings. On one occasion, Huike said to Bodhidharma, “My mind is anxious. Please pacify it.” Bodhidharma replied, “Bring me your mind, and I will pacify it.” Huike said, “Although I’ve sought it, I cannot find it.” “There,” Bodhidharma replied, “I have pacified your mind.” Upon hearing this, Huike realized enlightenment.

The second story involves ten stages of the gradual-Chán-school (Soto) illustrated by Chinese Chán Master Chino Kukuan, who painted ten pictures illustrating the steps to emancipation. The movement from anguish to freedom has been depicted in many ways since Buddhism began to take shape, but, in essence, the key that unlocked Huike’s gate of the elixir of universal compassion is the same gate in these ten-fold stages. And that key entails a seemingly strange illusion: being liberated from the beginning yet remaining unaware until the true mind realizes it has never been imprisoned in the first place. If we are already whole, then we can’t become whole. Nevertheless, the quest to become whole and emancipated is an ageless and futile proposition because the true mind is what is doing the seeking. Trying to find your true mind is like looking for your eyeglasses while wearing them.

Ten pictures depict the search for an ox, an allegory for the search of our true nature. Although awakening is instantaneous, the practice, which precipitates it, may be experienced as occurring in a series of stages. This process may be understood as gestation and then suddenly birth. The ox-herding pictures are an attempt to aid the progress toward enlightenment by exemplifying certain steps, which begin in darkness and proceed in stages ending in enlightenment and a return to the world (which was never left). However, having gone through suffering associated with being in the bondage of the mind, the return is accompanied by a radically altered view of what is bondage and an appreciation of genuine compassion.

Now we are in the world, and the question becomes, “What role do we play in this vast drama of life?” Do we intercede? Or do we accept things as they are, regardless of how they appear? In our complex world, even attempting to determine how things are is a daunting challenge since all is changing at light speed. Do we have a responsibility to fight injustice and evil, or stand apart and watch with detachment the destruction of society? And to answer this thorny question, we turn to Plato and his allegory of The Cave. 

Plato wrote this allegory as a part of The Republic around 380 BCE. The larger purpose of The Republic concerned Plato’s ideas of justice, as well as the order and character of both a just man and a just city-state. The Cave specifically addressed the effect of education, and the lack of it, on our true nature. The allegory is structured as a dialogue between Socrates and Plato’s brother Glaucon. The setting for the story involved people who have been imprisoned in a cave (their own mind), chained in a fixed position so they can’t move, with a fire at their back, thus casting shadows on the cave wall of themselves. They are left to see only their shadows and come to believe they and their shadows are the same thing.

The two, observe this situation while Socrates points out to Plato’s brother the despicable nature of the prisoner’s plight as well as the civil, spiritual, and political obligation by those who see the truth to those remaining in bondage. When the fact is pointed out, the prisoners lash out and excoriate those who wish to free them, claiming that they, instead of their intended deliverers, are right while their liberators are wrong. They would instead rather choose to remain chained and protect their convictions than to be set free. Such people surround us to this day, denying what is crystal clear.

Given this conundrum, Glaucon asks Socrates why the liberators need to endure the slings and arrows of the prisoners but instead just enjoy the truth and let those in bondage remain pleased and in bondage. And it is here that Socrates states his case for a just man and his duty to society. According to Socrates/Plato, a just man is one who has found the truth and rather than “taking the money and running” returns to honor his duty to assist those trapped in their ignorance, which just happens to be the same definition The Buddha offered for a Bodhisattva: a suffering servant (also the name given to Jesus).

The Cave conjures up the antithesis of just men in the contemporary characters of congressional members who do “take the money and run” and of Paul Ryan, who reflects the teachings of Ayn Rand, who saw little need for government. In his eyes, they are “takers,” dependent on the entitlements of government. This view continues to govern the sense of obligation by members of Congress to carry out their responsibility. The view of a just man and his duty to a society held by these gentlemen (and a host of others) was the opposite of the view held by Plato. Just let them eat cake (Qu’ils mangent de la brioche, in French) is their mantra.

So back to the questions: “What role do we play in this vast drama of life.” Do we intercede? Or do we accept things as they are, regardless of how they appear? Do we have a responsibility to fight injustice and evil, or stand apart and watch with detachment the destruction of society? To many, the answer moves along the path of self (ego) preservation and the easy way: the safe way where avoidance of challenges to their tightly held dogmas of destruction reign supreme. To them, there is a clear right and a corresponding clear wrong: “makers” and “takers.”  But there is another way: the way of the Bodhisattva who fights for the rights of those still in bondage, trapped by the shadows of the mind, despite the slights and arrows cast at them. They have seen the light of truth and know it is not theirs to possess. They gladly become suffering servants because they have been in bondage themselves and know in their marrow how ignorance is not bliss. When they see injustice, evil and self-destructive actions taking place, they do intercede and fight for those unable to fight against the tyranny of the mind and covered with the slime imposed on them by those who care only for their profit regardless of harm inflicted on others.

There seems to be a subtle and fine line between liberating people in physical bondage and bondage of the mind. We must fight for those who are physically imprisoned in one way or another, be it oppression of race, gender, sexual orientation, politics, religion, finances, or any other form of unjust discrimination, yet recognize that until people are freed from the bondage of the mind, there will never be ultimate freedom and liberty for all. The mind is everything! We must be in the world but not of the world.  If we, who have endured suffering and found release, don’t help those in need, we too will continue as doomed to a hell we deserve.