The core of you and me.

The useful center.

A tiny seed, when planted in good soil, given proper nutrients, sunshine, and protected from adverse conditions, can grow into a massive oak tree. 

Essential oil is a concentrated hydrophobic liquid (e.g., not compatible with water) containing volatile aromatic compounds from plants. An oil is “essential” in the sense that it carries a distinctive scent, or essence, of the plant. Essential oils are generally extracted by distillation. In other words, the essential scent has been derived from a source plant, but the plant is no longer needed for the aroma to exist. In a certain way, the aroma is independent and can permeate various media.

There is a curious correspondence between the oak tree, essential oil, and us. We, too, contain an essence that has been extracted from a source. And this essence includes the aroma of the source, which is infused in all sentient beings. Neither an essential oil nor our essence can be further distilled, and neither essence is subject to changing conditions. Once we arrive at essence, the aroma can be infused in various media, and the aroma persists.

What is the essence of essence—of all essences? Bodhidharma, the father of Zen, called the essential essence “our true mind”—The Buddha. Nothing, he said, is more essential than that. It is the void that is empty of any limiting characteristics: The essential essence. Out of this apparent nothingness comes everything. This is the realm of the unconditional absolute, beyond discriminate conditions of this or that.

That may or may not sound esoteric, lacking usefulness, but I’ll offer you two frames of reference: One from Lao Tzu and the other from contemporary physicist Lawrence Krauss. Lao Tzu said this about usefulness:

“We join spokes together in a wheel,
but it is the center hole
that makes the wagon move.
We shape clay into a pot,
but it is the emptiness inside
that holds whatever we want.
We hammer wood for a house,
but it is the inner space
that makes it livable.
We work with being,
but non-being is what we use.”

And this from Lawrence Krauss, who has proven mathematically that everything that exists emanates from nothingness. We are mesmerized by what moves but never consider what makes it move. Through Buddhism, we have learned that contrary to customary opinion, everything has two sides that define each other. “In” and “out” originate simultaneously, just as everything else does. This principle is known as dependent origination. And the most essential dimension of that principle is the seen vs. the unseen. 

All form depends on emptiness (and vice versa), just as Lawrence Krauss has demonstrated. What everyone will discover if pursued, is that we exist and don’t exist at the same time. “To claim that a goer goes implies that there could be a goer who does not go because it is asserted  that a goer goes.” Thus, a goer cannot exist without a non-goer, nor can a walker without a non-walker. The walker only comes along with walking. The thinker only emerges with thinking, digestion only with eating and the self with and through living. These opposites dependently originate. Independently neither could exist. The question is, what or who sparks the process of all?

In the 8th-century, an Indian Buddhist philosopher by the name of Śāntideva said that to be able to deny something, we first have to know what it is we’re denying. The logic of that is peerless. He went on to say, “Without contacting the entity that is imputed, you will not apprehend the absence of that entity.” Similarly, The Lankavatara Sutra (a Mahayana favorite of Bodhidharma) addressed the issue of one vs. another with this: “In this world whose nature is like a dream, there is a place for praise and blame, but in the ultimate Reality of Dharmakāya, (our true primordial mind of wisdom) which is far beyond the senses and the discriminating mind, what is there to praise?”

The wisdom of emptiness and dependent origination ultimately reduces down to there being no difference between our perceptible, bodily form, and our core of emptiness. They are two, united sides of the same thing. One side is perceptible (phenomena); the other beyond perception (noumena): A house and the inner space determine each other. There have been numerous terms used as alternates for noumena ranging from Buddha-Nature, Dharmakāya, the Void, Ground of being, Spirit, and the preference by Zen and Yogācāra was Mind—primordial mind (not the illusion of mind nor the illusion of self vs. no-self). In this state of mind, there is no discrimination—all is unified, whole, and complete, so there can be no difference between one thing and another thing. Space is space, regardless of location.

Huang Po (Japanese—Obaku; 9th century China) was particularly lucid in his teaching about these terms. In the Chün Chou Record he said this:

“To say that the real Dharmakāya (the Absolute) of the Buddha resembles the Void is another way of saying that the Dharmakāya is the Void and that the Void is the Dharmakāya...they are one and the same thing...When all forms are abandoned, there is the Buddha...the void is not really void but the realm of the real Dharma. This spiritually enlightening nature is without beginning...this great Nirvanic nature is Mind; Mind is the Buddha, and the Buddha is the Dharma.”

Nagarjuna, considered by many as the equivalent to the Apostle Paul in Christianity, was the master of delineating the connection between the unseen essence and perceptible manifestations. He said this:

1. Essence arising from
Causes and conditions makes no sense.
If essence came from causes and conditions,
Then it would be fabricated.
2. How could it be appropriate
For fabricated essence to come to be?
Essence itself is not artificial
And does not depend on another.
3. If there is no essence,
How can there be differences in entities?
The essence of difference in entities
Is what is called the entity of difference.
4. Without having essence or otherness-essence,
How can there be entities?
If there are essences and entities
Entities are established.
5. If the entity is not established,
A nonentity is not established.
An entity that has become different
Is a nonentity, people say.
6. Those who see essence and essential difference
And entities and nonentities,
They do not see
The truth taught by the Buddha.
7. The Victorious One, through knowledge
Of reality and unreality,
In the Discourse toKatyayana,
Refuted both “it is” and “it is not.”
8. If existence were through essence,
Then there would be no nonexistence.
A change in essence
Could never be tenable.
9. If there is no essence,
What could become other?
If there is essence,
What could become other?
10. To say “it is” is to grasp for permanence.
To say “it is not” is to adopt the view of nihilism.
Therefore a wise person
Does not say “exists” or “does not exist.”
11. “Whatever exists through its essence
Cannot be nonexistent” is eternalism.
“It existed before but doesn’t now”
Entails the error of nihilism.

Putting this into less abstruse terms, essence and non-essence are integrated into an irrevocable bond, and to extract one part extracts the other just as by removing “in,” “out” is eliminated. This is the standard of dependent origination at work, which leads the Buddha to state in the Heart Sutra that detectable form is the same thing as undetectable emptiness. And the significance to us all is that our essential nature (which is lacking all definable characteristics, is pure and indiscriminate) lies at our core. 

In contrast, our mortal, non-eternal nature, perceived as an ego, has infinite defining characteristics. And furthermore, the quality of our essence is opposite from the quality of our non-essence: ego (seen) and true nature (unseen) are polar opposites.

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

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

We have all had conversations about the essential nature of people. Some say that we are rotten to the core—that there is no essential good there. Such people have given up on themselves and their own human family. This voice is split between those who believe in God and those who don’t. On the one hand, if there is to be any essence of good, it is purely the result of that good coming from an external God. The “non-believers” hold no hope at all—Just rotten to the core. Neither of these voices acknowledges intrinsic worth. To one, the worth is infused; to the other, there is none. The eternal presence of Buddha-nature is a contrary voice of faith: the recognition of intrinsic, essential worth, present in all of life, and it is this gold mine, which, when accepted in faith that manifests in wisdom amid affliction and turns ice into water.

The routine understanding is that Buddhism is a Godless religion, and the reason for this view is that the Buddha didn’t focus on a concept of God but instead focused on understanding and overcoming suffering. It’s worth the time and energy to thoroughly investigate this matter. First is the notion that God can be understood conceptually. The Buddha’s perspective was that such a thing was not possible, any more than emptiness can be conceptually grasped.  When thoughtfully considered, this is, of course, true. By forming a concept (of anything), reality is lost. “God” (pure consciousness) is transcendent to all considerations and can’t be enclosed within any conceptual framework. To even attach a name such as “God” is to be lost in delusion.

Sokei-an Shigetsu Sasaki used the name “Great Nature” and “Great Self.” There are many names to point to the nameless creator of the heavens and earth, but Sokei-an perhaps said it best. He said, “If you really experience ‘it’ with your positive shining soul, you really find freedom. No one will be able to control you with names or memory of words—Socrates, Christ, Buddha. Those teachers were talking about consciousness. Consciousness is common to everyone. When you find your true consciousness, you will not need the names or words of any teacher.” As a result, The Buddha addressed only what can be controlled and didn’t participate in fostering further delusion.

So the question is whether or not ‘it’ can be defined, even marginally. What are the characteristics of ‘it’ and how does ‘it’ function? Whatever name is chosen, whether Christian, Buddhist, or any other group of people, the nature of God is understood to inhabit the entirety of creation. The creator can’t be severed from what is created, which is the point of the Buddhist understanding that all form is the same thing as emptiness. Rather than using the name “God” (in vain), the name “Buddha” is used, and “Buddha” means awakened to the true essence of oneself. Such a person is said to enjoy the mind of enlightenment. 

If you read Buddhist literature extensively, you’ll find a laundry list of sorts, which speaks to this mind of enlightenment. It includes the following qualities: complete, ubiquitous, full of bliss, independent, transcendent, full of wisdom, never changes, the ground of all being, creative force of everything, devoid of distinctive nature (ineffable) yet all form endowed with this nature. When you take all of this in and digest it, a duck begins to emerge that walks, talks and looks like a duck. In the final analysis, a name is fleeting, but the substance remains forever. 

Here is what Jesus is recorded as having said about where God lives: “If your leaders say, ‘Look, the Kingdom is in the Heavens,’ then the birds will be before you. If they say, ‘It is in the ocean,’ then the fish will be before you. But the Kingdom is inside of you and the Kingdom is outside of you. When you know yourself, then you will know that you are of the flesh of the living Father. But if you know yourself not, then you live in poverty and that poverty is you.”—Gospel of Thomas 3.

The problem is we translate reality conceptually. The solution is not thinking. I know that sounds puzzling, but here is the Rosetta Stone answer: our true mind is always at peace and enlightened, and our thinking mind is eternally restless and unenlightened. I don’t think Voltaire was a Zenist, but here is how he defined meditation: “Meditation is the dissolution of thoughts in Eternal awareness or Pure consciousness without objectification, knowing without thinking, merging finitude in infinity.” 

What we “think” is our mind is not our mind because our mind is the source of thinking and not thinking but is itself neither. Our true mind is transcendent and can’t possibly be one or the other since it is the source of both. There is no discrimination in our true mind, so it can’t be one thing or another thing. Our true mind contains nothing yet everything comes from there. It is an “everything-nothing” mind—on the one hand, empty yet full at the same time.

Around 700 years ago in Germany, a Christian theologian, philosopher, and mystic by the name of Meister Eckhart said this...

“The shell must be cracked apart if what is in it is to come out, for if you want the kernel you must break the shell. And therefore if you want to discover nature’s nakedness you must destroy its symbols, and the farther you get in, the nearer you come to its essence. When you come to the One that gathers all things up into itself, there you must stay.”

However, this quintessence might be described is limited to the linguistic symbols and concepts we must employ when we communicate. The danger of any communication, however, is to participate in a fraud, leading those still locked in suffering, to mistake the symbols of communication for the essence, which are inadequately being described. That is the danger, but it is a risk, which must be accepted. Surrogate of words can never take the place of tasting the sweet divine nectar. And to so taste, requires personal in-the-mouth experience. Words will not give anyone the taste.

From Huang Po’s perspective, there is a bonded connection between phenomena and this One Mind—They too are the same thing. Neither can exist apart from the other. Hear what he said about his connection...“To the ancients, to find the true essence of life, it was necessary to cast off body and mind. When all forms are abandoned, there is the Buddha.”

In an unexplainable way, Mind is no-Mind, which is, of course, the teaching of the Heart Sutra—Form is emptiness. This eternal  Void/Emptiness is the ground out of which impermanent, mortal forms arise. It is Buddha-nature (Buddha dhatu—womb of the Buddha: our essential nature). And the pearl of hope contained in this understanding is that while phenomenal life blows away like dust in the wind, our true nature never passes away. Our intrinsic nature is both natural (phenomenal and finite) and transcendent (noumenal and infinite). We are both form and emptiness. To savor, just impermanence is to suck on an empty clamshell and imagine a full stomach.

As Buddhism becomes known in the West, an unfortunate development is occurring as a reflection of our preoccupation with science. Objectivity is the cornerstone of science since it begins and ends with the ability to measure phenomena. Anything beyond that constraint has no scientific validity and is consequently seen of no value. There is much of value about Buddhism from that limited perspective just as there is much of value in the study of anatomy, but neither anatomy nor phenomenal Buddhism has very much to say about the sublime source of both, and neither could exist without it.

Orthodox Buddhism denies the existence of Atman—SELF, claiming that everything is null and void, arguing one side but denying the other, which Nagarjuna nails as nihilism. This argument is counter to the premise of dependent origination, which is foundational to Buddhism as well as the teachings of the Buddha himself. The evident point missed in this argument is that emptiness is itself empty (non-empty). Does SELF exist? Nagarjuna would answer “yes” and “no”—the Middle Way. If the essence of SELF exists, then nobody, except SELF, would know without the counterweight.

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

Laws and Order?

Law and Order?

In 1970 Alvin Toffler wrote and published Future Shock, a book many considered to have caused a paradigm shift in how we think about and react to an unfolding future, particularly a future that speeds up and disrupts fixed societal standards. He followed with The Third Wave and Powershift: Knowledge, Wealth and Violence at the Edge of the 21st Century in which he further delineated the plight of those who resist inevitable change. 

His solution? People who learned to ride the waves of change would be most likely to survive and do well. And those who didn’t adapt would be drowned by those waves of change.

Toffler was unusually prescient and precisely defined the turbulence of the present day. The short takeaway of Toffler’s thesis is this: We humans resist effervescent conditions that disrupt the status quo and thus cling to fixed standards, even when such measures may have never existed. Or if they did exist, we tend to imbue them with inflated and idealized values. In short, we don’t embrace change and end up trying to bulwark thin air. Furthermore, when such changes wash away set standards, we yearn for the “good old days” when law and order prevailed and seemed to ensure stability.

Another ancient sage by the name of Lao Tzu said this in chapter 57 of the Tao Te Ching:
Therefore the holy man says: I practice non-assertion and the people reform themselves. I love quietude, and the people of themselves become righteous. I use no diplomacy, and the people of themselves become rich. I have no desire, and the people of themselves remain simple.”

Some years earlier, Alan Watts came to mainstream attention with his book The Wisdom of Insecurity. He therein observed that our lust for stability was grossly out of kilter since nothing in the phenomenal, mortal world is stable⎯all is changing each and every moment, and to cling to the idea of stability was a sure-fire prescription for suffering and failure. I offer these two summations for a reason that is particularly germane today, and what it should tell us about the value of fixed standards, otherwise known as “laws.”

We, humans, are creatures of habit, and once we have made decisions, we are reluctant to admit the error of our ways. That peculiar habit has a name and a well-founded pedigreed in psychological terms. It is known as a “confirmation bias,” which means we are much more inclined to seek confirmation of our preconceived ideas than to seek the truth. While it may be understandable and even desirable to live with laws, it is likewise a problem when we try to box in change. It can’t be done, since no measures, or set of laws, can ever counter continuous change. So what to do?

The Buddha offered the perfect solution, which he called “upaya,” a Sanskrit word that translates as “expedient means,” where justice is built into the premise of change. Instead of inflexible laws, upaya is flexible guidelines that allow for the nature of change. Upaya is rooted in the inherent wisdom of all of mankind, whereas the desire for inflexible standards is rooted in the opposite incorrect thought⎯Because we are by nature immoral, the lack of laws will result in anarchy, thus we must have a crutch to compensate for our lack. Ultimately this issue boils down to what we think of one another: An extremely critical issue when wrestling with matters such as racism or xenophobia. Are we naturally moral? Or naturally immoral?

“The more restrictions and prohibitions are in the empire, the poorer grow the people. The more weapons the people have, the more troubled is the state. The more mandates and laws are enacted, the more there will be thieves and robbers.

Given the vector in the world today it is high time we reconsider how we understand one another, and rethink how we relate. This may seem like a risky venture but how much greater is the risk of the direction in which we are now heading?

Justice for all?

All or none

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Belief and Truth

It is said that faith is more powerful than reality. I believe that it is. If I were to believe that I must have air to breathe and thought there was none, in spite of its ubiquitous presence, I would die from the lack. If I were to believe that I must have water and thought there was none I would die of thirst from that lack as well. When our beliefs (any at all) over-ride reality we suffer the consequences, in spite of what is real and true. If we are free yet believe that were are not, we are in bondage; poverty itself.

Many subscribe to the belief that in order to be spiritual it is necessary to embrace certain traditions, make specific statements of faith, and join with certain like-minded people as rites of passage to spiritual realms. The presumption here is that there is a formula that determines whether or not we are spiritual and acceptable to God. Perhaps the question is not how to be spiritual but rather, is it possible to not be spiritual at all. Believing that you are not spiritual (when you are) over-rides the reality in the same fashion that believing you need air when in the midst of air.

In The Song of Zazen, Hakuin Zenji said... “How sad that people ignore the near and search for truth afar: Like someone in the midst of water crying out in thirst; Like a child of a wealthy home wandering among the poor.” The story in the Bible about the Prodigal Son spoke the same truth.

Here is something to ponder—What is the spark which animates our being? Is it possible that we need to look no further than the end of our noses to discover what is ever-present? And isn’t it likely that we are crying out for God while in the midst of Spirit?

Probably the greatest Christian mystic to ever live was Meister Eckhart. He said this regarding the chasm between ideas and reality. 

“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.”

To experience the ubiquitous spiritual presence of God it is always necessary to get rid of the belief that God is absent and we must take action. God is transcendent but god is a distillation: Eckhart’s idea which must be cast aside. Such an idea is a distortion of reality and removes us from that which we seek to find.

The lens through which we see the world

Ego, by Hsiao-Yen Jones

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

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

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

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

“Humanity in the poorest and most despised human being is just as complete as in the Pope or the Emperor.” And we know what sort of clothing the Emperor wears—none.

Fundamental humanity is not flawed in any way. It is complete already. The flaw is what stands in the form of our human birthright that puts one head above another. The ego is the archenemy of our authentic, united selves, and God. But at the ground level of our humanness, we are equal and good, whether Pope, Emperor, Buddha, or an average person. Remove the enemy, and our unity shows through.

The Big Bang and immeasurable silence.

Singularity and the void.

Back in the period before pandemic social-distancing, the story of Stephen Hawking was playing in movie theaters: The Theory of Everything. Recently I watched a biographical documentary film about his life. He has been credited with the “proof” that nothing beyond naturally occurring physical conditions contributed to the Big Bang and therefore concluded there was no God. 

In his view (solely based on a universe governed by physical, conditional matter), there was no before and no space beyond the moment of singularity. Accordingly, everything we know, including time, began with the Big Bang.

What Hawking did not consider was the context of the void within which the Big Bang occurred, that according to all scientists, has no limitations or boundaries. Earlier cosmologists argued that the expansion of the universe would eventually slow, come to a stop and then begin to collapse back to the beginning: a sort of Cosmic Breath, resulting in an eternal continuing series of black hole/singularities with expansions and contractions.  However, contrary to the orthodoxy of the time, no evidence has been found to support this process. Instead, there is evidence to the contrary: expansion is speeding up into the unconditional void.

One of the preeminent foundations, upon which Hawking’s conclusions rest, is the definition of space as understood within the field of General Relativity. Einstein argued that physical objects are not located in space, but rather have a ‘spatial extent.’ Seen in this way, the concept of empty space loses its meaning. Instead, space is an abstraction based on the relationships between objects, and without objects (due to the confluence of space and time), there would be neither space nor time at the point of singularity. 

The development of quantum mechanics complicated the modern interpretation of a vacuum by requiring indeterminacy. In the late 20th century, this principle was also understood to predict a fundamental uncertainty in the number of particles in a region of space, leading to predictions of ‘virtual particles’ arising spontaneously out of the void.

The scientific conclusions don’t address the limitless void since there is nothing to measure in a vacuum. However, to those who subscribe to the precepts of Zen, the void is everything yet nothing. According to Zen Master Huang Po:

“To gaze upon a drop of water is to behold the nature of all the waters of the universe. Moreover, in thus contemplating the totality of phenomena, you are contemplating the totality of mind. All these phenomena are intrinsically void, and yet this mind with which they are identical is no mere nothingness. By this, I mean that it does exist but, in a way, too marvelous for us to comprehend. It is an existence, which is no existence, a non-existence, which is nevertheless existence. To the ancients, to find the true essence of life, it was necessary to cast off body and mind. When all forms are abandoned, there is the Buddha.”

Similarly, Bodhidharma stated: “To say that the real Dharmakāya of the Buddha resembles the Void is another way of saying that the Dharmakāya is the Void and that the Void is the Dharmakāya ... they are one and the same thing... When all forms are abandoned, there is the Buddha ... the void is not really void, but the realm of the real Dharma. This spiritually enlightening nature is without beginning ... this great Nirvanic nature is Mind; Mind is the Buddha, and the Buddha is the Dharma.”

It isn’t necessary to grasp either the highly technical nature of theoretical physics or the higher spiritual nature of Zen to understand the dimensions of The Big Bang, the context within which it occurred, and that of the infinite nature of the Void. All that is necessary is to understand a relatively simple matter: dependent origination, which says that everything that exists arises and ceases along with an opposite dimension. 

A simple example will suffice. “There is no up without a down. There is no in without an out. There is no phenomenon without noumenon. There is no physics without metaphysics. And there is nothing conditional without an unconditional dimension.” Thus to prove anything regarding the beginning of the universe (which Hawking later recanted) without considering the void is like showing the existence of fish without finding water. His latter perspective was that the universe was unconditional (no beginning, no end, no limits of any kind), which is precisely the position held by enlightened individuals. 

At Google’s Zeitgeist Conference in 2011, Hawking said that “philosophy is dead,” and further, “philosophers have not kept up with modern developments in science;” that scientists “have become the bearers of the torch of discovery in our quest for knowledge.”

Stephen Hawking was awarded the Copley Medal from the Royal Society in 2006: America’s highest civilian honor, the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2009, and the Russian Fundamental Physics Prize in 2012. It is easy to agree with Hawking that there is no God, since “God” is a simple handle we use to speak of the ineffable source of everything. That, however, doesn’t really address the essential issue. With all due respect for his amazing insights and accomplishments, until the scientific community deals with the void and the Mind, the work will remain incomplete.

In the world: enlightened social responsibility.

Covered with the slim of injustice

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readiness.

The road MOST traveled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What we don’t know can hurt us.

The realm of reality.

Many, if not most, of the problems we encounter as humans are due to what we either don’t know or refuse to know. Such a lack has a way of catching us off guard at the worst possible moments, usually late in the game when there is little we can do to stop, or at least slow the progression toward disaster. 

The coronavirus pandemic is a case in point. So long as we can be aware of the sign-posts, we can prepare for the worst while hoping for the best. Hope, however, must be realistic and in line with those sign-posts, or it remains pie in the sky. What we don’t know can, and many times does, hurt us.

Without knowing, we live in two realms at once: The realm of rational conditions (the mortal one) and a realm beyond conditions, where immortality lives. Think of the realm of immortality as the ground from which our mortal lives grow. It is very much like growing a garden. If the immortal soil is full of nutrients, then the odds are better, the mortal produce will be nutritious.

The realm of mortal conditions is our ordinary realm, where one thing stands in opposition to another. Mortally, we have a beginning and an ending. In this realm, differentiation is the criteria and is based on the senses that tell us how we are all different. Our sense of sight says to us, light is different from darkness. Our auditory sense tells us that sound is different from silence, and so on—each of our senses discriminates one thing from another different sensory thing.

The immortal realm is the realm of unity, where everything is the same. And unlike what grows, the immortal ground has no beginning nor end. That’s the good soil and is the unconditional realm of the spirit: The ground of all being—the well-spring of all. And these two realms are irrevocably joined together in perfect harmony. Should one realm disappear, the other would disappear. When one appears, the other appears. They define one another, and without an opposite, neither can be understood, just as without light, darkness would have no meaning. One is an abstraction—an illusion that appears to our senses as real, whereas the other, while invisible to the senses, is reality itself.

To our collective misfortune, the ordinary realm (e.g., the conditional) is what governs our world and is the root of all woe. It is because we imagine our life will end that we fear death, never realizing that genuine life never ends. Mortality segues into immortality, and life goes on. However, when we think we get only one shot, we see ourselves as distinct, separate, and different only. Then the mortal realm becomes a place where tribal wars of opposition rule the day, where nobody genuinely “reaches across the aisle,” and compromise becomes impossible, except as disingenuous lip-service.

It is within the silence of the mind where we discover our true, immortal worth. When all thinking ceases, it is there we find our true nature. Yet, as The Buddha taught, in emptiness, there is no mind and no self, so we call them both by abstract names to become aware. Without abstraction, only silence prevails, but it is within silence where we become enlightened to that which is the source of all awareness.

To most of the western world, Zen is a strange and confusing matter, most often utterly misunderstood. The founder of Zen (Bodhidharma) defined Zen as “not thinking.” And the great master Huang Po taught: “Whatever the senses apprehend resembles an illusion, including everything ranging from mental concepts to living beings. Our Founder—The Buddha, preached to his disciple's naught (e.g., nothing) but total abstraction leading to the elimination of sense-perception. In this total abstraction does the Way of the Buddhas flourish; while from discrimination between this and that a host of demons blazes forth!” — The Zen Teachings of Huang Po, (The teacher of Zen Master Rinzai).

If westerners had lived in the eastern world, Zen would not seem strange. Instead, the odds are favorable that Zen would be understood as the means The Buddha employed to experience enlightenment. Many in the western world have become aware of the practice of mindfulness meditation in helping to quiet the mind, leading to less stress and improved health. However, what has not yet become well established is the next stage beyond mindfulness. 

Quieting the mortal mind is a sign-post on the way to what follows. First, the chatter must be regulated and brought under control. Then, and only then, is it possible to move on to the deeper stage of Samādhi attained by the practice of dhyāna (e.g., the ancient name given to the practice of Zen—the last step in the Eight Fold Path, otherwise known as Right Concentration). The preceding step (the seventh) was known as Right mindfulness, the level that is now so popular. There is nothing wrong with mindfulness. But there is more beyond that sign-post on the way, but following that, the going gets tougher.

The great Buddhist meditation master Chögyam Trungpa said, “My advice to you is not to undertake the spiritual path. It is too difficult, too long, and is too demanding. I suggest you ask for your money back and go home. This is not a picnic. It is really going to ask everything of you. So, it is best not to begin. However, if you do begin, it is best to finish.” The beginning would be more aligned with Right mindfulness, whereas Right Concentration is more aligned with finishing up the journey.