Hitting the bullseye.

Going to the root cause.

In light of the recent explosion of potentially catastrophic events around the world, it’s tempting to be diverted from what is foundationally important, speak reactively and directly to these matters and avoid, what may seem obscure to many. When immediate, critical matters become in-your-face, it is natural to focus purely on such matters and forget about what was that way minutes ago.  

I attempt to remain focused on the foundationally issues 

The father of Zen (Bodhidharma) said, “The mind is the root from which all things grow if you can understand the mind, everything else is included.” Such a thing seems apparent, but what is ordinarily considered the mind, turns out not to be, It is indeed worth the investment to plunge to that root and if we did (collectively) we wouldn’t be chasing our tails. So I carry on, trying, again and again, to identify and communicate, with as many as I can reach, concerning

I’ve led an eclectic life and been exposed to many different cultures and perspectives. One of my stops along the way was a career in the advertising business. A lot has changed since those days but some of the vital principles have remained guiding forces. There are fundamentally three that count the most: (1) reaching the people with whom you want to communicate, (2) with messages that are considered relevant and compelling by those people, and (3) do it time and time again with a variety of connected messages. Two of those are matters of media (reach and frequency) and the third concerns message.

Back before, and during, the 80s, the advertising business was influenced by the guru of the moment,

Now, due to multiple points of global contact (blogs, podcasts, ebooks, social media in various forms, email, and multi-media such as YouTube), we have entered a new era that enshrines, more than anything else, generating a demonstrable “Like” response. It ain’t what it used to be. 

Presently, more times than not, the message is sometimes bizarre (such as Alex Jones) and other air-headed forms, drives the process and those who are interested can find you through search engines. I know this personally since over the fifteen years I’ve been posting to Dharma Space, the vast majority of my readers have found me, rather than me finding them. After all of these years, roughly 89,000 spiritual seekers have become followers of Dharma Space (a mere pittance compared to hundreds of thousands of “Likes” on a single day from superficial, frivolous material, which is disturbing to me). 

However, I guess I shouldn’t despair but rather follow the wisdom of Mark Twain: “Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.” Even though, I’m troubled by having no clue who these seekers are. They say you can’t teach old dogs new tricks but just maybe if I learn a few, I can generate “Likes” for something more profound than bathroom popularity.

Thanks to Google Analytics, I know where Dharma Space readers reside (continent, country, province, and city), how often they visit, how long they stay, their gender, and even the genre of postings to which they are most attracted. However, I also know that only a tiny few ever respond or comment (and I don’t think I’ve ever received a “Like”) so consequently, I am left to guess about many important matters: backgrounds and levels of spiritual maturity; why they are attracted to Dharma Space and to whom they refer Dharma Space posts; how frequently they prefer to receive my messages (some have told me they look forward to them every day while others say they are annoyed when they do) and are my readers' intellectual dilettantes or serious folk? These and many other important bits of knowledge, if I knew about them, could make my communications better and enable me to find and hit hearts of arising empathy and compassion. However, short of such information, I must use my judgments to deliver what I do and hope that a positive force results.

Honestly, I wish I didn’t attract dilettantes for entertainment's sake. If that is the motivation in mulling through Dharma Space articles, people could do a lot better spending their time watching “The Bold and the Beautiful ” or some idiot sharing YouTube videos of their daily hygienic habits.

At times I’ve thought of myself as a sort of Johnny Appleseed planting spiritual seeds, most of which may grow (hopefully) into maturity, unbeknownst to me, long after I’m gone. I write as the spirit moves me or about unfolding life, problems we encounter, and how to deal with them. Lots and lots of different seeds but with one common denominator of the unity of an unconditional, indiscriminate spiritual consciousness, designed to separate us all from the destructive force of an alienated ego and awaken us to our unseen, true nature. But unlike Johnny, I plant not only apple seeds but a variety of seeds with that common spiritual denominator. Sometimes I write short ones like “The Deep,” “Finger pointing at the moon,” or “Today you are you!” Some are whimsical such as “Rushing backward,” “Birds do it,” “Monkey see, monkey do,” and “You.” I share personal matters of my own growth process: “Little Bear and Lily Pads,” “Who the heck am I?” and “Tick, tick, tick.” 

Why am I writing this blog? Because I want my readers to know that regardless of how different we are on the superficial, perceptible level, at heart (where it matters; in the real mind spoken of by 

The eye-glasses upon our nose.

Seeing only clouds of delusion.

Zen Master Huang Po (Huángbò Xīyùn) was one of the most important and revered teachers of all time. Among other contributions he was the teacher of Lin-chi (the founder of Rinzai Zen) and the promulgator of the inherent nature of the One Mind, being everything. His teaching on this reflected the Indian concept of the tathāgatagarbha—the idea that within all beings is the nature of the Buddha. Therefore, Huang Po taught that seeking the Buddha was futile as the Buddha already resided within:

This principle is one of the most difficult for aspirants to comprehend since the vast majority of the human race firmly believes Enlightenment IS to be attained and may spend their entire phenomenal lives seeking what they already possess. This idea of no attainment was eloquently articulated by the following:

“If an ordinary man, when he is about to die, could only see the five elements of consciousness as void; the four physical elements as not constituting an ‘I’; the real Mind as formless and neither coming nor going; his nature as something neither commencing at his birth nor perishing at his death, but as whole and motionless in its very depths; his Mind and environmental objects as one–if he could really accomplish this, he would receive Enlightenment in a flash. He would no longer be entangled by the Triple World; he would be a World-Transcender. He would be without even the faintest tendency towards rebirth. If he should behold the glorious sight of all the Buddhas coming to welcome him, surrounded by every kind of gorgeous manifestation, he would feel no desire to approach them. If he should behold all sorts of horrific forms surrounding him, he would experience no terror. He would just be himself, oblivious of conceptual thought and one with the Absolute. He would have attained the state of unconditioned being. This, then, is the fundamental principle.”

His expositions reflected the same principle expressed roughly 1,600 years prior in the Bhagavad-Gita, which spoke of the eternal, yet obscured nature of the Self:

“Once identified with the Self, we know that although the body will die, we will not die; our awareness of this identity is not ruptured by the death of the physical body. Thus we have realized the essential immortality which is the birthright of every human being. To such a person, the Gita says, death is no more traumatic than taking off an old coat.”

If we could grasp and experience our essential nature, all fear for our destiny would disappear, we would awaken to our truth and realize Enlightenment in a flash. Yet we are lost in a cloud of delusion as one would be when looking through the lenses of eyeglasses positioned upon our noses.

Eternal frame of mind.

We are facing an unprecedented era of crisis, never seen before.

Not only is there the evident crisis of fighting a global war with an unseen enemy we have labeled COVID-19, but there are other crisis’ roaring along in the background (such as global climate change) while our attention is diverted fighting the virus, with all of its permutations—impact on global economies with the two-edged sword of dying from exposure to the virus or dying from starvation, impact on food supplies, a growing divide among all people, based on placing blame, and the impact on mental/emotional health, et.al.

Conspiracy theories are flaring through social media, dwelling on finding the culprit, punishing them, or those who would simply rather put their heads in the sand and hope it will all just go away. While China may, or may not, be the source of the viral spread, intentionally (which would be total madness) or accidentally, we in the US (with a history going back 243 years, to the signing of the Declaration of Independence) would do well to recognize our comparative national youth. Within recorded history, China dates back 4,000 years, is recognized as one of the four great ancient civilizations of the world, together with ancient Egypt, Babylon, and India. And moreover, it is the only ancient civilization that has continued to this very day. China was one of the cradles of the human race and has gone through countless times of catastrophe. Any group of people that have survived that long probably has something of value to say about “crisis,” and it does.

The Chinese word (written as “危机”) means “crisis” and is made up of two characters: “危” and “机.” 危 means danger, and 机 means chance and opportunity. However, 机 can also mean pivot (a term we hear much today)—a crucial or a watershed moment. Logically, this makes much more sense than looking at a moment of crisis simply as though it were stuck in time. Whether 243, 4,000 years or 200,000 years—the time homo sapiens have been on earth, each and every moment evolves into new, never seen before moments, through good times and bad.

Of course, while in the midst of the “危” (danger) we tend to forget that nature abhors a vacuum, and “机” (opportunities) will follow, as surely as the sun follows the darkness. The question is thus, how to maintain equanimity in the midst of apparent, tangible catastrophes? And this comes down to how we view ourselves, others, and the world around us. If we remain persuaded that life=physical/mortal life, then it follows there most likely won’t be any following opportunities without reverting to the survival of the fittest—dog-eat-dog, kill, or be killed behavior. However, if life is not just tangible, measurable, flesh, bones, or anything else that can be perceived through our senses, but is instead immortal and eternal, then equanimity is much more possible. 

Both Jesus and The Buddha taught that true life is eternal and does not end with bodily death. People put words in the mouth of Jesus (as they did with The Buddha) and texts have been written to support both views. For example, there is the Sutra of Infinite Life and various Christian texts, ranging from Canonical approved ones to others from the Gnostic Gospels (which conflict with each other). The unabashed truth is nobody has ever been able to prove the nature of an afterlife (either for the good or the bad) and I would argue that what we do mortally ought to be the focus, not as a gamble to insure what may or may not happen following our mortal end, but rather because doing good is better than doing bad. So long as we pin our hope on divine justice it undermines our motives to take responsibility in the here-and-now.

The certainty of failure.

“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.”⎯Alan Watts

As Voltaire indicated, while doubt is an unpleasant state of mind, the presumption of certainty is absurd. One of the essential differences between Buddhism (which is based on the certainty of change) and other religious institutions concerns this matter of uncertainty, and what to do about it. Since change is inevitable, The Buddha promoted upaya, which translates as “expedient means.” There are no fixed solutions that always work, and to continue down the road of life, based on the expectation of certainty is a fool's errand.

On an individual or a tribal basis, such behavior is known as clinging to dogma⎯The pinnacle of “inappropriate ideological conduct,” and always opposed to other such conduct, not like them. The specific nature of constantly unfolding life is not predictable. Yet, it does not stop us from manufacturing hardened walls—their purpose being to take the capacity to wiggle out of life itself. It can’t be done for a simple reason: Life=wiggle.

Our vision is limited. We tend to see what is on-the-surface, perceptible, and lies within our immediate sphere. Those who traveled on the Titanic, unfortunately, discovered this error too late. Hardly an ounce of consideration goes into how we got here, or where our footsteps are leading. Our presumption is that there is a straight, safe path from the past through our present and on to a predictable future. To make matters worse, we then enshrine our words and actions into habitual ideologies and rules, forgetting that how we got here was 100% unpredictable. The continuing gap between prediction and reality never ceases!

Some years hence Nassim Nicholas Taleb wrote a New York Times bestseller called The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable. According to Taleb, few if any of the significant human tides were, or could have been, predicted. He was, and is, of course, correct. And one of the key reasons for his accuracy is uncertainty. Just as very few swans are black (most are white), very few tides happen as we predict, simply because of the constancy variable (e.g., the uncertainty factor). Who could have predicted a coronavirus pandemic? Or the economic melt-down that resulted? Change is the only sure thing, and nobody can predict the precise nature of change.

This is a vast human problem to our collective wellbeing since many of the most significant tides, blind-side us with catastrophes, and we are then forced to rush to unfounded judgments, grasping for straws, while juggling fate. And then, not learning from our errors, going on to craft, yet again, other fixed ideologies that will likewise fail. Life is not constructed within an unchanging straight-jacket. Instead, it wiggles and always expands beyond the limitations we construct—in error—as we try-try-yet-again to make it steady and forthright, thus rendering it predictable.

This admonition is global in nature. And the under-the-radar truth is that our collective consciousness is the result of trillions of individual contributions, invisibly happening all of the time and merging with other equally unpredictable bubbles constituting the Great Life Sea—which is nothing more than those collective bubbles, forming a frothy tide washing upon, and grinding away, the boundaries we set.

One of the most significant of all compendiums of Mahayana Buddhist wisdom, conveying this principle of uncertainty, comes from The Diamond Sutra. And the essence of wisdom therein was stated by The Buddha as:

“So what should be on one’s mind, as one begins the Bodhisattva journey?

‘Like a falling star, like a bubble in a stream, Like a flame in the wind, like frost in the sun, Like a flash of lightning or a passing dream—So should you understand the world of the ego.’” (e.g., A world of continuous change, dominated by greed, anger, and ignorance).

What’s real?

Good and Evil.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nagarjuna explained this relationship in the following way:

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

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

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

Beacon on the Hill?

The shades that color our vision

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flowers in the sky of mind.

What dies, and what doesn't.

I’d like to tell you a story I call “Cleansing bubbles” about my own transformation.

One of life’s most enduring themes has been to find ourselves. The quest begins early, reaches a peak during adolescence and tails off afterward, largely because of frustration. Defining our identities is thus a universal pursuit that rarely culminates in anything real. If it reaches a conclusion, at all, it travels down the road of ego construction and maintenance. 

More times than not, nothing beyond ever occurs and we process what we think of ourselves in terms of how others see us, from moment to endless ever-changing moment. One moment a good self-image; the next a bad one. Our sense of who we are dances on the end of a tether like a boat anchored in a turbulent sea. Rather than finding our true, united nature, the quest is driven to enhance our differences. 

In the words Aśvaghoṣa: “In the all-conserving mind (âlaya-vijñâna) ignorance obtains; and from the non-enlightenment starts that which sees, that which represents, that which apprehends an objective world, and that which constantly particularises. This is called the ego (manas).” 

But as we shall see, there are two ends of this stick: one end that is emerging and the other end the seed from which the ego grows. In contemporary terminology, we lust for individuating ourselves at the expense of uniting ourselves. That universal quest to find ourselves is a dance of inside-the box futility. From beginning to end this entire process is flawed and based on a moving target dependent upon changing circumstances. All of life is changing and within change, there is no stability, except in the realm of stillness we call the soul—the hidden spirit awaiting discovery.

The quest was of particular importance to me since I never knew my father. The man I thought was my father was a sadistic beast who took pleasure in beating me, laughing all the while. The result on my psyche was devastating and hammered home the final nail in the coffin on my sense of self-worth when mixed with a broken love-affair during my young adult life, and the horrors of two years as a combat Marine fighting in Vietnam to survive by killing innocent people. 

I was 48 years of age, suicidal and a complete mess when I fled to a Zen monastery. By that time the seeds of disaster, planted in my subconscious had grown and flourished into plants of misery. Had it not been for the loving kindness and guidance of the Rōshi of the monastery I would be long gone and not writing these words. Because of him, I found myself—not the phony one that dances on a string of dependency, but the real one that never changes.

There is no limit to what I didn’t know when I first began my journey to self awareness. I was naïve and uneducated in the ways of Zen. I didn’t understand Japanese. I hadn’t yet read the significant sūtras. I didn’t even understand MU—the koan given me to transform my mental processes. But I did understand one simple metaphor given me by the Rōshi that turned the waters of my consciousness from the clouded filth of my imagination to clarity and self-realization.

I was told that while I was practicing Zazen to silently watch my thoughts, as bubbles arising out of the depths, into and through my conscious awareness and breaking on the surface of the water (e.g., thoughts becoming actualized phenomena—actions). I was to never attach myself to the bubbles but rather just watch and let them come, one after another, seeing the chains of causation seeping out of my encased memory, connecting, moment by moment my past with my present. And then to take the next step and realize what I was watching were old-movies of a dead past. That I did for months on end. I watched. I cried over the afflictions of my past, I endured the pain until one day there were no more bubbles; just clear water, the “movie” stopped and I was at peace. It was the practice of Zazen, that when conjoined with all that came before, shattered one part of me and introduced me to the better.

And then the dawn! What I could never see through the clouded waters of consciousness, I could see once the waters were clear. I was not the despicable person I had been led to believe. I was a never-changing, timeless soul—perfect at the core, encased in a broken body of ignorance. When I shared that experience with Rōshi during dokusan, the light of the sun shown through his face and he beamed, “welcome home.” It took me years beyond before I understood what he meant, but forever after that experience, the real me never bobbed again.

I am still encased in that broken vessel which is crumbling faster and faster as I age—and will remain that way until my shell is no longer, but I reached a point in my life when I felt compelled to do what I could to share the wealth of my realization.

Years later, I came upon a story told by The Buddha in the Tathāgatagarbha Sūtra. I share it to put flesh on the bones of my story: “‘Or perhaps, my friends, you can understand it like this: In a factory, statues of the Buddha are made by pouring liquid gold into moulds made of clay. In order to melt the gold into a liquid it has to be made so hot that the clay moulds become blackened and burnt. But when they have cooled down, the burnt, dirty moulds are broken and inside them the golden statues are revealed in all their beauty. In the same way, if we can break away our nasty feelings of greed and hatred we will find that underneath them, within us, we each have the hidden, perfect qualities of a Buddha, like pure shining gold.’

After finishing his explanations, The Buddha said to all the assembled holy men and women, ‘If you can learn to really understand this teaching, you will have understood one of the most important things that I saw when I became Enlightened, and you will see the way to perfect wisdom.’” 

That story is one of nine stories told to his followers near Rajagriha, in a great pavilion in the Sūtra. And rather than clay moulds becoming blackened and burnt, he saw upon his enlightenment a sky filled with beautiful lotus flowers which eventually wilted and died. But when they died a beautiful golden image of a Buddha meditating and radiating beams of light emerged out of the decay.

Like those flowers, “I” died that day (e.g., that broken, filthy jar-image of myself), and out of that broken vessel emerged the true me radiating from the depths of my soul, like light through the clear waters. Dying flowers; crumbling molds; bubbles arising from the depths of tragedy—Metaphors all, of equal magnitude. We are all so very different on the outside, yet at the core of our hearts and souls—where it really matters, we are the same; brothers and sisters bound forever together. If you can experience this transitional death of what doesn’t matter and the subsequent birth of what does, you will have entered into the timeless realm of purity, and you will feel “at home.”

Ego death?

Our mind is an amazing reality that emanates through a brain composed of different cells and neurons which function differently, yet results in a seamless understanding of the world and our selves. 

In a balanced way, our right and left hemispheres function so that we bring together very different modalities to form a balanced worldview, which is both analytical and compassionate. 

Unfortunately, most of us are not balanced due to a host of reasons and tend to be either overly analytic, reliant on symbols, concerned with differences, or overly affectively sensitive stemming from sensed assaults on our egos. For the most part, our left-brain rules the day and this hemisphere is the home of our ego (sense of self).

Our ego-mind perceives the world in a possessive and resistant way, which creates attachments and judgments. If we like (a judgment) something, our ego attaches in a favorable way. If we dislike (a judgment) something, our ego attaches in an unfavorable way. This clinging to conditions results in a brittle, judgmental, and inflexible perspective of our selves, others, and life. Whereas a balanced mind recognizes our interdependent union with all life, our ego-mind denies this and treasures exclusivity and independence.

The three poisons of the mind are manifestations of this out of balance ego exclusivity. As we grow and mature these poisons create strife for our selves and others. We respond to this strife in one of two ways: Blame and denial or learning. The first response just exacerbates the poisons whereas the latter choice moves us to the realization they are rooted in our out of balance ego-mind.

Life, in essence, is structured so that we either awaken or we continue to suffer. If we live long enough, are open-minded, and determined to see things as they truly are, we will eventually come to see the truth. And when this transformation happens, our ego (as the exclusive judge) dies—so to speak. The fact is this sense of self never dies but it is transformed in a balanced way so that we see the world in an enlightened fashion.

This transformation can be facilitated through Zen whereby we learn to quiet the constant chatter that emanates from our ego with its judgments and critiques, which normally overshadow our compassionate nature. This chatter is so loud and relentless, we could easily go through life with very little, if any, understanding of our pure and true nature which makes life worth living. It is unfortunate that few of us follow this path toward breakthrough and remain ignorant of our vast human potential.

Breaking through occurs when our left-brain chatter comes to a halt and we become aware of our always present true nature. This is a matter of subtraction—a sort of shedding—rather than adding or seeking. Lao Tzu put it this way: 

“Empty yourself of everything. Let the mind rest at peace. The ten thousand things rise and fall while the Self watches their return.” And this...“In the pursuit of learning, every day something is acquired. In the pursuit of Tao, every day something is dropped. Less and less is done until non-action is achieved. When nothing is done, nothing is left undone.”

The suchness of Earth Day.

This year Earth Day slipped by without my notice. Perhaps that was because I, like everyone else, was transfixed on COVID-19 and my top-of-mind priorities were thus in flux.

Seeing things as they truly are, without delusions or bias, is a serious challenge to world survival. The Buddha referred to himself as the Tathāgata, which is a derivative of the East Asian term Tathatā: the true basis of reality. Ordinarily, if we think of it at all, we think of spiritual awakening as some sort of magical state of mind. According to the 5th-century Chinese Mahayana scripture entitled Awakening of Faith in the Mahayana, the state of suchness/tathatā manifests in the highest wisdom with sublime attributes and is thus the womb of the Buddha.

In the world of today, living in a state of denial represents a threat of massive proportions, not only to those who choose to stay blind but to us all. Putting one’s head in the sand of ignorance does not ensure safety. On the contrary, closing our eyes to the very real consequences of a warming climate accomplishes nothing more than ensuring the ultimate end of a world that enables life. 

On this day (Earth Day) we had an opportunity to do our part to find our voice of courage and speak up to ensure, not only our own survival but the survival of our own progeny, not to mention all sentient beings. What we all need is to recognize that every step of human progress, from the very beginning, has been contingent on having a livable environment. And unless we wake up soon we will find ourselves in an environment so hostile that life will no longer be possible. The signs of this progressing devastation may already be experienced as indicated in this article that reveals everything from growing allergies to ultimate destruction.

Addiction

As the Covid-19 pandemic rages out of control, addiction once again is rising to the top of the news feed. Whenever crises rise, addiction rises in tandem and those so inclined scrambles for relief.
 

This post is thus particularly relevant in light of the present day problems to a wide variety of a host of objective “stuff.” Our common-coin manner of understanding addiction is too limited. When we think of someone addicted we see images in our mind of drug addicts or derelicts who were unable to overcome excessive opioid consumption. Maybe we’ll even go so far as to include someone who can’t control his or her consumption of food or sex. Whatever object is chosen—another person, drugs, alcohol, food, the greed for money or sex, becomes the god we must have to fill a sensed emptiness. Rarely, however, do we consider the average person exhibiting expressions of addiction, and that’s a problem.

Addiction, properly understood at the base level is craving: an excessive desire. Everybody falls victim to that. Whenever our normal comforts are disrupted, such as now, anxiety goes wild and we crave their return. We either crave what we like or resist what we don’t. Both are forms of craving (excessive desire). To get to the bottom of this dilemma we need to ask, “which part of me is craving and why?” Someone who is complete, doesn’t crave anything, so it must be the incomplete part of us—the part of us that says, “I need that to experience myself as complete and satisfied, and without getting that I will suffer.”

Meister Eckhart (the 14th century Christian German theologian, philosopher and mystic) said, “To be full of things is to be empty of God. To be empty of things is to be full of God. Man’s last and highest parting occurs when for God’s sake he takes leave of god. St. Paul took leave of god for God’s sake and gave up all that he might get from god as well as all he might give—together with every idea of god. In parting with these he parted with god for God’s sake and God remained in him as God is in his own nature—not as he is conceived by anyone to be—nor yet as something yet to be achieved, but more as an is-ness, as God really is. Then he and God were a unit, that is pure unity. Thus one becomes that real person for whom there can be no suffering, any more than the divine essence can suffer.”

A while ago I heard a man say, “I can understand how Christ can be in me, but how is it possible for me to be in Christ?” Clearly, this person had a rather limited view of both himself and of Christ and apparently didn’t believe what his own scripture told him about the nature of God. Christian scripture says that the nature of God is omnipresent. If this man truly believed this, the answer to his question would be clear: there is no place that God is not, so how is it possible for anyone to not be in Christ? The entire sea in which we swim is God. Fish are in the water and we are in God.

In our unknowing, we imagine that we are separate from the fullness of our creator, that we are not a unit and this, in turn, leads to a deep desire to become what we are already, thus we suffer. The Buddha also spoke in the Nipata Sutra about what happens due to ignorance:

“What is it 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 which smothers’ the Buddha replied, ‘and it heedlessness and greed which make the world invisible. The hunger of desire pollutes the world, and the great source of fear is the pain of suffering.” 

All people fear the pain of suffering and this makes us blind to the suffering of others. While locked in the grip of our egos, we think we’re the only ones suffering, and in that state of mind, we become greedy and uncaring. At the center of suffering lays this idea that we are separate and incomplete and that leads to the craving for what we have already.

The ancient Daoist admonition applies here, “Resist nothing and embrace everything today. The perfect day and night are within you. Let it all unfold like a blossom.” Picking and trying to retain only the good, while resisting what we imagine will darken our day, is the true addiction and that leads inevitably to suffering.

The critical nature of genuine self awakening.

When contemplating the myriad problems of today’s world you might come up with a list such as the following:

• The COVID-19 pandemic

• The Middle East debacle

• Unchecked global climate change (warming)

• A growing gap between the ultra-wealthy and everyone else

• Spreading violence

• Hatred and intolerance

• Political gridlock

• Toxic pollution of the environment

• Loss of genuine liberties

• (add your own)

While all of these are problems of enormous concern, there is a core root that underlies and drives them all: a misidentification of who we are individually and collectively. So long as our answer to identity boils down to a vacillating self-image (ego) the natural result is fear, greed, possessiveness, selfishness, isolation, irresponsibility, despair, and a victim mentality that leaves us all heading for a cave of seeming security.

Recently Avram Noam Chomsky observed that “As long as the general population is passive, apathetic, diverted to consumerism, or hatred of the vulnerable, then the powerful can do as they please and those who survive will be left to contemplate the outcome.” While a grim statement that shocks us into states of denial and disbelief, his observations are true.

The question is, what must we all do in order to escape from this inevitable outcome? The answer is not the ostrich method of avoidance, denial, and ignorance. On the contrary what we must all do is transform our self-understanding, from an isolated individual to a connected member of the human race, which was (and remains) the solution to suffering offered by The Buddha more than 2,500 years ago. The solution does not change because the nature of being human does not change. 

At the central core of all of us is an indefinable state of unconditional consciousness that is the same for everyone. The problem is that while this state is the source of all aspects of awareness, itself is not detectable and we are all prone to consider real only things with conditions that can be detected. This is a case of the eye not being aware of the eye. However, in this case, it is the inner eye (URNA) instead of the detectable eye, and as the father of Zen wrote, it is in this state of mind that all discrimination ceases to exist. Out of this indiscriminate state arises sentient discrimination that leads us to the mistaken notion that each of is a dependent ego at odds with every other human, vacillating and contingent on an uncertain world and that “ego idea” then produces the undesirable qualities listed above.

In the recent past, a form of meditation (MBSR) has become prominent in helping many to cease attachment to waves of thinking, many of which are destructive to self and others. While very helpful, it only one of two dimensions outlined by The Buddha in his Eight Fold Path. MBSR rests upon one of these two: right mindfulness (Sanskrit: samyak-smṛti/sammā-sati) and is the essential path to a genuine awakening of our true, indiscriminate nature (who we truly are). The other dimension of mind (right concentration (Sanskrit: samyak-samādhi/sammā-samādhi) is not widely known, but by any other name is Zen/Dhyāna, with a history going back into an unrecorded time, long before The Buddha. 

The two disciplines were intended to be practiced as a combined pair but in today’s world, they have been split apart. MBSR has become quite useful in stilling the mind and helping practitioners to stay present instead of lost in speculation. However, the issue of identity remains an esoteric matter leaving those who practice MBSR only, still holding fast to a perceptible and insecure self-understanding. Importantly it is Zen that produces the desired result of a sense of SELF that is unconditional, whole, perfect, and unshaken. This quality alone delivers the awareness that we are all unified, none better; none diminished in any way. 

As awful as the laundry list of contemporary problems may be, those and unknown others will flourish unless we can experience this state of indiscriminate, undiscovered unity, inherent in us all. 

Defining characteristics.

Buddhism is known as a way of life characterized by wisdom and compassion. Two valid questions: Wise about what? And what is the basis of Buddhist compassion? Hopefully, we can be wise about many things, and the wiser we are the less trouble we create in the world, and that’s a good thing. But Buddhist wisdom is not broad-spread wisdom about everything but rather concerns being wise about the cornerstone of life: the rudder that guides our ship.

In a very real sense, life is a gamble. We can’t know the future so we roll the dice and bet on the outcome. And this quandary ordinarily concerns material prosperity. The presumption here is the more stuff we can accumulate the more fulfilled we will be.

Buddhist wisdom turns this proposition on its head, first by understanding that the fundamental nature of all matter is change: Here today means gone tomorrow and clinging to what is ephemeral creates suffering. The second dimension of Buddhist wisdom takes us to compassion. Why should we care about someone else? Isn’t it enough to take care of our own business? And in today’s world taking care of our own is becoming more and more difficult. However, there is nothing quite as persuasive in pointing out our mutual interdependence than a global pandemic with a virus that infects one and all alike.

The principle of independence seems to imply separation, and independence is the premise of individuality: Everyone doing his or her own thing. Again Buddhism turns this premise upside down by noting that everything is interdependent. In truth nothing can possibly be independent, in spite of our wishes. No one is an island. Covid-19 proves that with no doubt. Compassion is the bridge that spans the apparent gap separating us from one another.

Zen takes us to the ground level of this union. The source of our actions (how we relate to each other) is thought. And the source of thought is mind. These three are connected. Mind creates thought and thought creates action. At the deepest part of mind there is unity. There is no such thing as “my mind.” This “my” is an illusion of identity but it seems very real. Buddhism teaches that there is only one true mind (which is no mind) and it is here where unity exists.

The problem is that most people understand mind as their thoughts and emotions and these manifestations are unique and individual. By identifying with our thoughts and emotions we create separation, alienation and the corresponding attitude of me against the world. The result is greed, anger, and ignorance—the three mental poisons which are wreaking our world today.

True compassion arises from the base of true mind—where we are all one. And wisdom is the result. We become wise when we experience unity and realize that when we care for another we are literally caring for our self. And the flip side of this realization is the awareness that when we harm another we bring harm to our self.

The command by Jesus “…in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you...” is the same as the Buddhist prescription. If we wish to change our world from a factory, which produces greed, anger, and ignorance, the solution is that simple. What we put out comes back to us because at the deepest part of existence we are united. When we experience this unity our thoughts change from “me, me, me” to “us, us, us” and this shift results in an action of caring, both for our self and for others.

First posted in August 2011