At the brink.

The recent debacle in Washington brings into sharp focus a fundamental flaw in our way of thinking and thus how we wrestle with problem-solving. We call it “the blame game.” This quagmire precisely illustrates a classic cultural flaw: Republicans blame Democrats. Main Street blames Wall Street. Your neighbor blames you, and you blame your neighbor. Apparently, nobody sees the big picture, which is this:

Wall Street doesn’t exist as an independent entity, separate and apart from you and me (Main Street)—investors who are greedy for a free lunch and believe that there is an independent up, separate, and apart from an inevitable down. Likewise, neither Republicans nor Democrats exist as independent entities. And neighbors only exist because of you and me.

This notion of an absolute right or wrong—one independent dimension in opposition to another—is simply wrong-headed. Unfortunately, this notion is going to bring our culture to its knees unless we wake up soon. This spirit of “me against the world” has never worked and never will work simply because it is not true. No world is separate and apart from “me and you.” We are the world which we are creating together, either in opposition with one another or in the messy struggle to work together for the common good. It may appear as a solid political strategy to set yourself apart from the other guy (or gal), but it creates and perpetuates a myth destroying us all.

For more than 2 millennia, Buddhists worldwide have seen the flaw of this “me against the world” approach as contrary to interdependent origination, which states the truth of our collective unity. There is no such thing as an independent anything—Light and dark arise and disappear together, up and down arise and disappear together, democrats and republicans arise and disappear together, form and emptiness; you and me...the list is endless, and it is a simple truth if only we would put it in motion. Instead, we remain trapped in opposition with anyone and everyone. We remain convinced of absolute righteousness (otherwise called self-righteousness), which only folks like us are privy to, and we likewise remain persuaded that others not-like-us are obviously wrong. Two problems here:

1. The idea of a “self” is just that...An idea. It is not a substantial, real thing. And if it is just an imagined figment, then there is, what? A figment of imaginary righteousness? The answer to that rhetorical question is yes—imaginary.

2. Even if there were a real self (which could be called our Root Consciousness, Buddha Nature or any name you choose—the name is irrelevant), such a reality could not be independent and separate because it is ubiquitous, never-born, never-dies, and not a reality which can be claimed as exclusive by anyone. It is a common, shared-by-everyone reality. We are in this pickle together and can’t escape.

So, where does this leave us? Well, it’s not too difficult to conclude. Either we continue on as we have since the beginning of time chasing the phantom of “me against the world” (and live with the consequences of that pursuit—racial and cultural suicide), or we chart a different course of unity. It would seem that we are at a tipping point, balanced on a precipice between choices. Collectively we will decide, but one thing is clear: Whatever choice we make will result in both benefits and consequences because these also arise together as an interdependent union. To listen to a good talk on the web of causes and effects undergirding our current crisis, click here.

The great divide.

Political affinity would appear to have little to do with intelligence, education, or any other standard measures used to analyze governing principles or human behavior. Highly intelligent and educated people align themselves with either the Republican or the Democratic parties. Of course, viewed from either party, the opposition always seems wrong-headed and either a bleeding-heart liberal, socialist, or a self-absorbed Nazi. All of these derogatory terms superficially gloss over the essential differences underscoring political affinity.

There are no adequate solutions without first identifying the problems(s) to be solved. If we can set aside (at least temporarily) the name-calling, and sagaciously consider some differences, perhaps we can zero in on the problem(s) and thus identify some solutions that could bridge a widening gap between these two. I’ll boldly go where angels fear to tread and suggest that what lies at the heart of this divide is a fundamental perspective regarding how we understand ourselves. Consider two perspectives:

1. Perspective number one: All people, while they may be created equal, are really very different when it comes to motivation, willingness to work hard, and capacity to achieve their rightful rewards. What I earn is mine. What you make (or don’t) belongs to you. There are makers (people who contribute to the well-being of the world), and there are takers (e.g., leeches who suck off the makers). Standards should be discerned, established, preserved, and maintained by the makers and complied with by the takers. The wealth of the world should be provided for the benefit of the makers. There are winners and losers.
2. Perspective number two: All people are created equal, although opportunities to prosper and realize one’s potential are inequitably distributed, passed on, and preserved by the makers. Life's nature is far too complex to predict, anticipate, and plan for changes that disrupt capacities. Everyone should earn as much as they can and recognize that nobody can genuinely make anything by himself or herself. Cooperation, sharing, and compassion are essential qualities upon which a civilized culture is based. Standards should be discerned, preserved, and maintained by a willing consensus of workers and investors. The wealth of the world should be provided for the benefit of all people. There can’t be any long-term difference between winners and losers. Unless everyone wins, to some significant degree, instability and chaos will reign.

What accounts for these two perspectives? The answer should be self-evident. The first group is concerned with what they consider their just reward, whether it serves the larger good or not. They are motivated out of fear and preservation of the status quo, which is tilted in favor of concentrated wealth. This group is competitive and values winning at the expense of others.

The second group dances to a very different tune. They are persuaded that cooperation must be the prevailing standard and that unless everyone is given an equal shot, an imbalance will ensue. Winning will be unjust, encouraging greed and discouraging incentives.

These are the two views considered by intelligent and educated people, who remain convinced of their own perspectives. It is ludicrous to think that any such analysis, however sage, will suddenly result in one person or many adopting a different perspective. Still, in the heat of political spins leading to the coming elections, it is good to pause and appraise the spin according to this assessment. In the end, it boils down to a single issue: How we understand ourselves, either as an isolated individual or a member of a cooperative human race.

The four faces of us all.

The distortions we imagine.

There is a Japanese saying: “We have three faces: The first face, we show to the world. The second face, we show to our family and friends. The third face, we never show anyone and it is the truest reflection of who we are.”

There is, however, another Zen koan: “Who were you before your parents were born?” which transcends the first saying and points to our “original face”—Who all of us are before the clothing of expectations or definitions are applied is this original face, without form or definition—the one that can’t be seen that is doing the seeing. Look at it this way: If there is a face that can be perceived it can’t be who we are since it takes both a perceptible image (what is seen) and one who sees. All of us are that imperceptible seer, not an image.

The first face we show the world because we believe it is the expected ideal. The second face is the one we risk showing, based on the assumption that we can relax with family and friends: still a risk, but one we accept. The third face, the one we never show, is the one we fear the most and holds the greatest risk of exposure, persuading us that if ever revealed will destroy us. All three are unreal projections, based on our criteria within us that we construct. None of these are real. Instead, they are based on the expectations we each hold as yardsticks against which we measure who we imagine we are as acceptable beings, worthy of love.

The only face that is real is the fourth: the one that can’t be seen. This face alone holds no criteria of acceptability since by nature it is wholeness itself: complete, indiscriminate, lovable beyond measure and understanding of all, because IT is all. 

Fool that I am.

The fools prison

There’s a really curious matter regarding our self-understanding. For the most part, our unenlightened way of thinking about our self is governed by a mythical illusion, which we take to be wise and compassionate. 

We imagine this being covered in lots of different clothing and we call that person our ego. The term ego in Latin means “I,” cognate with the Greek “Εγώ (Ego)” meaning “I,” often used in English to mean the self, identity, or other related concepts.

When we express this in descriptive words we say things like, “I am an American, a Black man, a Christian, a Democrat, or any other handle.” We identify with such definitions, as we would clothing. So long as we conform to that way of defining our selves we are trapped within a prison of unflinching conformity without even realizing it. We thus live in delusion and always consider ourselves to be wise and compassionate. But are we really? Or are we deluding ourselves?

There is a test that nearly always works to reveal the truth. Can you give an unconditional gift, expecting nothing in return? With no expectation of reciprocal action? Or perhaps a trade is taking place: “I’ll give you this IF you give me something in return. And if you won’t return my favor, then I’ll stop giving you mine.” This latter is being launched by our ego because an ego is only interested in self-serving conditions. Our ego says to us, “What’s in this for me?” An ego lives within the delusion of separation, alienation and greed since that is the nature of an egos house. In that house we are fools believing that we’re not. A fool never knows they are a fool. And a Buddha never knows he/she is a Buddha. No one ever truly knows who he or she is that way. The measure of that arises by actions rather than words.

Nobody is an idea or a concept. Instead, we can learn what The Buddha said about this in The Mahāyāna Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra. He said we are an indefinable, and undetectable entity known as the Tathāgatagarbha (loosly translated as the genesis or womb of the Buddha which lives within us all); Reality personified that can’t be found. He said that we don’t have real, separate identities. Instead he said we know ourselves by what we produce. Jesus said the same thing, “By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles?” An ego is a thornbush. Our real personhood shares unconditional wine.

We can talk a good game all day long but none of it means a thing. Show me your measure with your life and never mind the words. St. Francis of Assisi said it this way, “Preach the gospel. And if necessary, use words.”

Tick, tick, tick.

The invisible connected links.

Observation—seeing clearly—should not be confused with making judgments. It is simply seeing what’s present, right now and acting appropriately. What was present in times past is now gone and what may have been an appropriate action then, is no longer. 

Why is it that we cling to yesterday’s decisions and feel compelled to justify, or even apologize, for those past, now-gone conditions? Then was then and it is now today, replete with a brand new set of circumstances—opportunities to make choices based on what is now present. We can release ourselves from both errors (which may not have been errors) and victories (which in hindsight could be seen as errors) by noticing the tick, tick, tick of changing space/time.

But alas we are not noticing that tick, tick, tick except when we pause, look inward, and track the dots that lead us all to where we are today. Disparaging our, perhaps, poor choices, of the past with thoughts about, “If I had it all to do over again” is somewhat delusional and a waste of time, since such a thing is an impossibility. We can’t return to the past, and even if we could who can say we’d take with us the wisdom acquired by making past choices and learning the lessons that can only be learned within constantly changing circumstances.

If you haven’t yet watched the movie “The Butterfly Effect” you may want to come up to speed with this idea of If I had it all to do over again. It is a story about a young man who could do it all over again and every time he made a different choice the result made things worse. The movie was based on chaos theory, a branch of mathematics focusing on the behavior of dynamic systems that are highly sensitive to initial conditions. The theory was first put forth by American mathematician and meteorologist Edward Norton Lorenz. 

The documentary about this is available on Prime Video and the movie, based on the theory, is available on Netflix. I suppose you could label this by another name called “The domino theory” which was the political justification for many wars fought to ensure the dominos fell in a chosen direction. Of course, they never did, since eventually one decision led to an unpredictable set of other conditions such as those illustrated at the designated link—The War to end all wars. It’s the same principle with a different label. Furthermore, we have a rather dismal historical record of forecasting the most significant waves of change, as pointed out by Nassim Nicholas Taleb in his book “The Black Swan.” Our crystal ball of significant future events is without doubt, cloudy.

Many years ago, when I first stepped onto the path of Zen, I read a book about this constantly changing landscape. It was called The Wisdom of Insecurity by Alan Watts. At the time it seemed a shocking idea, simply because I too had not been noticing the tick, tick, tick. And after reading his book, it wasn’t so shocking. I then began to notice, and the path of Zen became deeper and deeper until it ultimately led me to the state of immanent Self-discovery. 

All that time I thought I knew who I was. The world was telling me. I was making error upon error (or so I thought at the time) and getting the expected feedback. The dominos kept falling and eventually the world summed up their evaluations and I bought their feedback hook, line, and sinker. I had been trapped, without knowing, in a state of clinging to all of those judgments which led me to a point of crisis and that in turn led me an implosion of my sense of self (ego), which in turn led me to the discovery of the indefinable state of my true Self-nature—the source or capacity of perception we know as pure, undefiled consciousness, completely lacking description, but is the same in every sentient being. From that moment on, I knew precisely what (who?) I was, and I also then knew what I was not—the ego formation we all fabricate out of whatever we perceive and bounded within the framework of what can be perceived, and never the one who perceives.

Like everyone else I could not return to my past (nor can I now) and reconstruct anything, but what I could do was construct a future (only for me) based on two fundamental matters: Choices that arose from that core awareness (e.g., who I was and who I was not) plus accepting the constant flow of change. I can assure you that the same is within reach of every living being. It sounds easy in words but is incredibly difficult in the doing. Learning how to not think—How Bodhidharma defined Zen—is most difficult but is the pathway leading from intuition: The state beyond rational thought—the motherload of all wisdom.

An imagined you.

Do you have any idea who you are? Begin with this simple understanding: An idea is a mental image, otherwise known as a thought. When you imagine yourself you form an image. It may be a composite image constructed with many parts such as your standing vis-à-vis others, the values you hold dear, or just about any other contribution. But in the end, you have an idea about yourself, which you assume constitutes your being.

This process forces the matter of selfhood. Are you the result of this process—a composite image (a self-image)? Or are you the one who conjures up this image? If the former then you are in constant motion with continuously changing vagaries. In other words there is no permanent you, instead, you remain vulnerable and never at ease (e.g. dis-ease). On the other hand, consider the possibility that the real you is not, and has never been any sort of image but is rather the never-changing and constantly present, ineffable imaginer: The one doing the imaging that can never, ever be imagined.

In today’s world, we have a different name for a self-image. It goes by the name “ego” which if researched means “I” as when we say things like “I am a special being” (of some sort). And this ego understands itself as being uniquely different, special and in conflict with every other ego. It’s a world of me against you and if I am to win, you must lose.

Now this other entity, the imaginer, has no defining characteristics. If it did then it would be constrained to some characteristics but not others. One characteristic only has meaning when understood against some other characteristic such as up vs. non-up (otherwise known as down). Can anything be both at the same time? Our ordinary answer to that questions is no due to meaning and understanding, which is to say that everything can only be understood and have meaning when compared to something else: thus discrimination and discernment.

But how about this: My imagination is the same as your imagination and neither of these can be understood, just recognized as the wellspring of every thought and image. The imagination has one purpose only: to imagine. And the imagination has no limits or forms of difference. In truth, the imaginer is exactly the same from one person to another. We are all just a commonly shared mind without limit or constraining dimension.

Think about that! Better yet, don’t think about that. Just recognize this: You and I are the same non-thing, without limit.

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. 

Inherent goodness.

You are not made good by your beliefs. You are good already. When you realize your inherent goodness there is no longer a need to believe. Then you know.

Thoughts on Self Nature.

Over the years, having read, studied, and experienced the voice of enlightened people and considering my own, I have attempted to capture, with words, the essential nature of humanity and the opposite: Our corrupted nature. 

The latter has produced an eternity of evil and destruction globally, while the former has countered evil with goodness. I have personally experienced the transformation of self-destructive thoughts, words, and deeds into genuine benevolence. I have likewise witnessed the attempt to feign piety that clearly stood as a wolf in sheep’s clothing. People of the world seem to know that transparent evil is undesirable, and consequently, they try to conceal the heart of darkness with a camouflage of pretended allure. 

This effort, like the opposite of transparency, is affirmed by those who, similarly, play the same game. The pretenders flock together, as do those who choose to reveal a purity of heart, having nothing to hide. These two forces oppose one another and speak a different language.

But God would not allow me such relief, but instead brought back to me the more excellent relief of that magnificent young lady in the dawning of adulthood. It was then I found my true nature of completion and realized, contrary to what I had come to believe, that I was the essence of internal love that she alone had seen in me a half-century before. It was unquestionably a miracle and so clearly the act of a loving God that it was unavoidable to not see what had been there all along, but lay hidden beneath that sense of self-hatred. “Then I knew fully, even as I am fully known,” and at last, I came to understand the mature language of the heart that joined my heart with hers around the core of a unified, indwelling presence of God.

It has been my experience that the language of love, compassion, and tenderness is impossible to articulate with words. In contrast, the language of pretense and deception comes in convincing forms more difficult to detect, except to those who, by nature, have passed beyond words and found their true self-nature. To the former, the task is one of mime. To the latter, the charge comes naturally. The communication challenge for humanity is to find a way to bridge that gap to inspire the minds of those still lost, to a higher standard beyond these surrogates of truth, much like a teacher with advanced education and knowledge must employ with children, not yet schooled. 

Having once been an unschooled child, a teacher knows both the language of a child and the language of the heart. The opposite is not valid. It is as the Apostle Paul stated in the 13th chapter of 1st Corinthians, 

“…where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now, we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” 

Paul’s words, in essence,  are the same as the words of Meister Eckhart, the German theologian and philosopher who lived during the 15th century: “The eye with which I see God is the same eye with which God sees me.”

While still a child having little maturity and life experience, lost to the voice of others, I defined myself as incomplete and worthless according to the opinions of those who appeared to hate me, for reasons I failed to understand. The result was I conformed to unworthiness and attempted the impossible of persuading both myself and those who’s voice I valued, that I was worthy of their affection and love. In essence, I did not love myself because I placed more value or their opinions than on my inherent completeness.

It took many years for this self-deception to fully ripen into the unnatural result of pure self-hatred, so thorough that I found no reason to continue living. The only contradiction to this perceived sense of self-hate was the pure, unselfish love that poured out of a magnificent young lady in the dawning of adult life. And that love, where our hearts beat as one, was lost to my own naïve and innocent error, thus driving the stake of self-hatred and associated guilt even deeper. 

The ensuing suffering I then experienced continued up the birth of my daughter, who seemed to come as a gift from God to show me through experience how to recapture selfless love again. For 20 years she, and I grew together within the realm of unconditional love, and when she was gone, I returned once again to the hell of self-hatred left with the whisper of the lost love of both my first love and my daughter. Again, I found no reason to continue living, sought the ultimate release, and readied myself for bodily death.

At long last, I understand the meaning of selfless love. It does not mean to sacrifice and give up what is of value. It means instead to lose the sense of an artificial and perverted self, shaped by the opinions of others and affirmed by my desire to be loved, to cast off the unreal that hid the real. By losing the artificial, I found the truth. And this true self-nature is united as a single purity of heart, not only with my first love and my daughter but with the breadth of humanity. 

True love needs no interpretation or indirect translation thru the medium of words. It is pure, recognizable, and when my eyes finally opened, I knew what I had previously known only in part. Then, at last, I experienced what Eckhart had said, “The eye with which God sees me is the same eye by which I see God.” Or, as the native Indians have said, “Before we can truly understand another person, we must walk a mile in their moccasins. Before we can walk in another person’s moccasins, we must first take off our own.” 

The old self-hatred had to fall away before I could see the new Self-love, and when it did, I came to know that the ideas I had previously held of myself as a false self, alienated from others, unveiled a true Self that united with God and the world. 

Thus selfless love is a love that loses the artificial and is replaced with the real. Selfless love is Self-full love that echoes, in a circular fashion from one heart to another. What goes forth comes from within. Which in itself is already joined with a passion that indwells the heart of another. And when that happens, there is no separation between your true self and the true self of another. That, to me, is the definition of genuine compassion: to experience the love and agony of your beloved, and they of you. You become echoes of each other, and your hearts beat as one.

The Bumping Game

There are no formulas, no prescription, nor a set of rules, which stand alone as sufficient to ensure fulfillment or realize our potential. The hope of all humankind is the same—to find our way, to make sense of our existence, discover the means whereby we can make a difference, reach the end of our days and say with honesty, “I did my best.” To simply eat food, grow fat, and move toward the end without examining our own life, as it is lived, rather than the way we think it might have been, is an utter waste. In such a case, we have ignored the ever-present voice that calls to us: “Who are you, and why are you here?”

None of us can live a life of abstraction or fantasy, even though what we imagine our reality to be is nothing more than an illusion we mistake for substance. Yet it is also the only reality we’ll ever have. Most all of us mistake this life of conditions as the sum total—all that exists. Others more fortunate understand life as the conditional and the unconditional. And a rare few go further and see these two as united, beyond our rational capacities. Such people enjoy peace, which passes all understanding because they have experienced no separation between one dimension and another.

Their lives are the lives of others as well as their own. They experience the ever-changing joy and agony of their fellow humans. In their bones, they know the true meaning of compassion and wisdom not as matters of an isolated individual who has constructed a philosophy or theory, which they propose as a one-size-fits-all recommendation. Instead, their knowing gets patched together one moment at a time. They flow like water rather than fixed like a stone.

We come into this world with no answers, not even aware of the questions. Then we begin. We move. We bump into life, and it bumps into us. We fall down. We get up. We’re hungry, and we seek food. Thirsty, we seek water. We are besieged by moving objects as if we were cueballs on a pool table. We remember and think to ourselves, “How can I avoid that?” or “How can I repeat that?”. We project, we plan, and the bumping continues. “That didn’t work. Try a different approach.” Then we try that different approach, and it too fails, or it succeeds for a time only to fail again—the cycle repeats. We learn, adjust, and adapt, or we become crusty, stodgy, and stuck.

The rulebook didn’t come along with our birth, and even if it did, there could never be a book that worked very long in this bumping, changing world. Clearly, there are no answers so long as we stay transfixed and wedded to the movement. The clue should be evident: The problem is seeing without clarity. The solution is seeing clearly. But it isn’t the ordinary seeing that matters. The ordinary way is the problem. The ordinary way leads us into further problems of bumping and getting bumped. 

It is what we don’t see that matters, not what we do. What we don’t see has no movement. We see movement, we respond and try to either get out of the way or gravitate toward a moving target.

Why do we care? What compels us toward one moving target and away from another? Why not stand still and let others do their own the bumping and getting bumped? It’s worth looking into and what we discover upon examination is that we either crave what attracts us (trying to retain it) or resist what we find repugnant. But why? What part of us needs, desires, and tries to avoid? Are we experiencing anxiety, fear, and incompletion? Is that what this is all about? Yes, it is. It’s seeing what’s here, and the presumption of insecurity and incompletion that drives the bumping and getting bumped.

So seeing what moves is the problem. Seeing what doesn’t is the solution: Seeing both the seen, the unseen, and understanding which part of us is experiencing the perception of problems where none exist. And once we understand that great matter, then it is time for the rest: Seeing the one doing the seeing—The unseen seer; the one always doing the seeing, the one who doesn’t move, allows movement and engages in the bumping game. Why? To tire of getting bumped and bumping so that we can discover the bumper.

The Second Step

Nothing in return.

The second step along the Eight-fold Path is Right Intentions. The principle of selflessness among religious traditions is universal but has special significance within Buddhism, given the central focus on the non-self/Self paradigm arising from interdependent origination. Throughout Buddhist sutras, there is a continuous thread contrasting manifestations of the ego with acts of charity arising from the purity of unobstructed manifestations from the Self/Buddha-Nature.

Defilements, delusions, and obscurations are seen as impediments to charity's free-flow. It is one thing to imagine doing good works from a moral correctness perspective. It is a very different thing to act in charity through interdependence. Love is not what you say. Love is what you do. It is the ego’s nature to talk a good deal but not follow through unconditionally. One functions as the “keeper” of one’s brother in the first case. In the second case, one functions “as one’s brother.” The ego takes great pride in performing for the crowd and expects a responsive reward. A purely selfless act has a built-in reward. There is no genuine love when emanating from the ego. I discovered the following (anonymous), which sums this up nicely: 

“When you give and expect a return, that’s an investment. But when you give and expect nothing in return, that’s pure, unattached love.”

The difference between these two views was expressed by the eighth-century Buddhist monk Shantideva, author of A Guide to the Bodhisattva’s Way of Life—a nine-hundred-verse poem credited to Nagarjuna. He said:

“When I act for the sake of others,

No amazement or conceit arises.

Just like feeding myself,

I hope for nothing in return.”

This view was echoed by the Golden Rule spoken by Jesus in the 7th chapter of Matthew, “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you...” The distinction lies in the perspective that there is a difference between oneself and others, disputed in Buddhism.

When Bodhidharma went from India to China, Emperor Liang was welcomed. The emperor asked him, “What merit have I gained since I built so many temples, erected so many pagodas, made so many offerings to Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, and did numerous other virtuous deeds?” 

Bodhidharma’s reply greatly disappointed Emperor Liang. Bodhidharma said, “Your Majesty, there is none whatsoever. You have gained no merit. What you have done produces only worldly rewards, that is, good fortune, great power, or great wealth in your future lives, but you will still be wandering around in samsara.”

On the other side of the world, another such teaching was established—“Be careful not to do your ‘acts of righteousness’ before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.” 

This second teaching was conveyed by Jesus and is found in the 6th chapter of Matthew. The message is the same—True charity is selfless. On the other hand, phony charity expects a return or some gain to accrue from works, and this is a subtle form of attachment linking action with results that keeps the giver locked in the vise of karma, which, like everything else, has no intrinsic nature. 

It, too, must link to action, and action, in turn, is linked to one who acts. When there is no “one/self,” nor “other/self,” action has no meaning, thus no karma. A Buddha has no self and is thus free from all karmic attachments, in which case selfless charity becomes a completely pure expression of giving and receiving. At the level of our True Nature, we are all Buddhas.