Pain or discomfort can make me vigilant; comfort contributes to being vulnerable to more suffering. In my case, I realize this from dealing with my physical issues as I get older. What has become evident is that in order for me to feel healthy and not exacerbate my growing physical ailments, I need to eat less more often, drink less coffee and more water, and exercise in moderation. Now these are not new insights for me. I realized this some time ago but what happens is - I forget. When I forget, I under-estimate and over-indulge.
Comfort quietly ushers in the return to activities that offer fleeting enjoyment but always lead to my ignorance; a glitch in mindfulness, a dark spot on the lense of my awareness, where I lose sight of the fact that my feeling of comfort is slowly transforming into discomfort. Why? Because I lose sight of the fact that I am creating this discomfort, and my choices take on the familiar pattern of a revolving door.
In this process, I forget that when I’m feeling good it’s a result of choices I’ve made. First, I begin to adjust my intake in order to cleanse my system. I get back to the point where the discomfort diminishes and I feel good. But too quickly I forget my involvement in this process, and the cycle begins again.
In my case, when I am physically feeling good I forget that in order to continue to feel this way, I need to pay attention to how and what I eat. If not, I overindulge. I then feel less comfort and tend to increase the amount I ate when I was feeling good, in a futile attempt to get the good feeling back. This causes me to move further into the realm of discomfort until at some point, usually when I've crossed a line deep into my experience of discomfort, I realize that I need to alter this new reactionary pattern. A pattern of behavior that I have once again established in an attempt to create, or sustain, my comfort. It works the same for food, coffee intake, exercise, or anything I enjoy.
In other words, I forget that discomfort reminds me to be vigilant about my contributions to the eternal ebb and flow of all the dichotomies of this human existence. A mistake that I make is that I interpret pain, discomfort, or suffering as something that comes from outside myself and impinges on what I have determined to be “my life.” The truth however, is that all of it is my life; be it pain or comfort, happiness or dis-ease. It’s not just my life, but life-as-it-is. And, like it or not, I am involved; I am responsible for the way it is for me.
I realize today that this can be understood within the parameters of my practice. Ignorance is part of the nature of mind. We search for comfort through the dualistic process of human consciousness and intellectualization. The opposite of comfort is discomfort or suffering and it stands to reason that we should strive for what gives us comfort and avoid pain or suffering. One aspect of this way of being in the world however, is a blindness that emerges when we find a level of comfort. We might say we become ignorant; we ignore the obvious fact that there is a dependent-arising with all things and that we are a co-conspirator in the arising of our pain, as well as happiness or comfort.
Whether our involvement is in the form of choices we make along the way, or the posture we adopt to the present situation as it “presents” itself to us in this moment - we are involved. Nothing arises in a vacuum. Dependent-Arising is errevocably embedded in our existence. As human beings we may be “great lord of all things” as Alexander Pope has so eloquently pointed out, yet we are just as surely, prey to all that is human.
November 12, 2009
November 6, 2009
Which: self or real-Self
We often use the same word in different situations with our intended meanings being quite different. Recently, during a re-reading of Sekkei Harada’s book “The Essence of Zen,” I came to a new understanding – my understanding - of the difference in meaning between the terms “self” and “real-Self.”
One meaning for the term Dharma is the world, life, “as-it -is.” This is the essence of Zen, the Dharma, the Way - the present as-it-is. When I recognize that the term Dharma represents Oneness, or life as-it-is before my dualistic mind processes and categorizes Oneness into sensate experience, I am able to imagine what initially appears to be two opposing ideas and recognize them as one idea from two perspectives; self and real-Self.
But let me begin a bit earlier in my thought process. In expressing proof of our existence, the human organism perceives/experiences the sense of a self (ego) and proclaims that since this “I” can see, and hear, and feel, and think - an “I” must therefore actually exist. We accept this as an argument for there being a permanent entity: the self. In this way our biological mechanism of perception and cognition supports the notion of a separate entity which I will call the “ego-self.” This ego-self, however, can also be simply expressed as the result and the sum of the functions of the aggregate of the mind/body processes and it is always changing and therefore impermanent.
All things come into existence through conditions and they disappear because of conditions. Results unavoidably issue forth from causes. All conditions are contingent upon the presence, or absence, of causes. Being attached to a preference for one thing over another is a condition for the arising of seeking, which is a condition for the arising of clinging, which in turn is the condition for Suffering. Just as desire is a condition for the arising of disappointment, desire was contingent upon a prior labeling of something as necessary or pleasurable, which arose out of the condition of sentience. This is one description of Dharma or Dependent-Arising; the way it is for us as human beings. And the idea of a “self” is the result of the conditions that have arisen out of our sensate body/mind functions, also referred to as skandhas, or aggregates of attachment.
So, by the term ego-self, I am referring the process whereby each person relates to the world from the standpoint of “I” and “other.” When the ego-self intervenes it inserts opinions, interpretations, judgments, and preferences. It requires that I see “this” by comparison to “that,” or egoistically for those who enjoy language.
We cannot avoid the apprehension of our life dualistically. And in this dualistic perspective there’s a deeply imbedded sense of “me,” which is juxtaposed to, and separate from, “you” and “other.” The present moment as-it-is, denotes a being-in-the-world without a separation into me and other. No judgments; no better than, or worse than. My meditation practice is about dropping the ego-self and immersing my attention wholeheartedly in the work of this moment. It’s about making an effort to let go of attachment to preferences, fully realizing the dualistic aspect of my being-in-the-world, while guiding my actions by a recognition and acceptance of the present moment, just as-it-is.
So if you are like me, and you are finally able to wrap your mind around it all up to this point, you will likely experience some consternation when you read about something called the real-Self (or sometimes referred to as the true-Self). It seemed to fly in the face of what I had struggled so hard to understand. What follows is how I have escaped the grasp of my confusion.
Our “real-Self” is the Dharma; the essence of all things constantly cycling through eternal change. In this case each passing moment – time, Bob, Nadine, Ken, Jimmy - is the arising of new causes and conditions. However, the key or operative idea in this is change. We are not composed of a concrete entity called “me” going through a process of change. We are change. And our real-Self, is that eternal changing; the Dharma. In other words, we are change as it represents itself to our senses at any given instant….and then we change. Our sensory apparatus cannot process this Dharma except within certain parameters of sensation. We are not constructed in such a way as to be able to process the true quality - is-ness - of each moment. Sentience is our prison, and our sentence is a life-time.
Life is the continual flux or flow of arising conditions (or causes depending upon what term you are most comfortable with). Dharma is the term I'm using to represent this flow of life, including the human organism, as it is unfolding. Therefore, I offer the term Dharma as a representation of the real-Self as opposed to the ego-self that I colloquially identify as “me.”
The “real-Self” is our unfolding. It’s not a discreet entity that has longevity amid an otherwise changing world. Change is the essence all things; the Dharma, the Way. Oneness is an undifferentiated whole-ness out of which our mind identifies limited parameters of sensory experience. And the real-Self is that Oneness which cannot be named or perceived because it is empty of the division, or separation, into a dichotomy of opposites.
What we refer to as discreet entities (named things) are actually contingencies or change as the arising of causes or conditions (aggregates of causes) acting upon other conditions. It is not possible for any single thing to exist on its own, or by itself alone. In our world of material forms, if I think something is true or real, it means I have added a characteristic (reality or truth) to the object or thing perceived. On the other hand, perception offers only “is-ness.” So there remains a dichotomous gap between that thing as-it-is, and that to which the name refers i.e., the quality of real or true, beautiful or ugly. My mind deconstructs the wholeness –oneness as-it-is - into parts or discreet dualistic units; the beautiful or true juxtaposed with the ugly or false. In our material world of form, in order for there to be a reality or a truth, there must be a non-reality or untruth; a dualistic “other.” An unavoidable fact for the human mind in a world of ten-thousand things.
On the other hand, the life of one who has realized one’s true-Self, is one in which dualities are noted but not clung to as ultimate truth. In other words, this manner of being in the world is to dwell peacefully in this moment…Now just as-it-is.
Practically speaking, whether one does something for another, or for oneself, the life of Zen is to forget all that comes before and after, and just do each deed for the purpose of the deed itself: here, now. This is to be your “real-Self.”
One meaning for the term Dharma is the world, life, “as-it -is.” This is the essence of Zen, the Dharma, the Way - the present as-it-is. When I recognize that the term Dharma represents Oneness, or life as-it-is before my dualistic mind processes and categorizes Oneness into sensate experience, I am able to imagine what initially appears to be two opposing ideas and recognize them as one idea from two perspectives; self and real-Self.
But let me begin a bit earlier in my thought process. In expressing proof of our existence, the human organism perceives/experiences the sense of a self (ego) and proclaims that since this “I” can see, and hear, and feel, and think - an “I” must therefore actually exist. We accept this as an argument for there being a permanent entity: the self. In this way our biological mechanism of perception and cognition supports the notion of a separate entity which I will call the “ego-self.” This ego-self, however, can also be simply expressed as the result and the sum of the functions of the aggregate of the mind/body processes and it is always changing and therefore impermanent.
All things come into existence through conditions and they disappear because of conditions. Results unavoidably issue forth from causes. All conditions are contingent upon the presence, or absence, of causes. Being attached to a preference for one thing over another is a condition for the arising of seeking, which is a condition for the arising of clinging, which in turn is the condition for Suffering. Just as desire is a condition for the arising of disappointment, desire was contingent upon a prior labeling of something as necessary or pleasurable, which arose out of the condition of sentience. This is one description of Dharma or Dependent-Arising; the way it is for us as human beings. And the idea of a “self” is the result of the conditions that have arisen out of our sensate body/mind functions, also referred to as skandhas, or aggregates of attachment.
So, by the term ego-self, I am referring the process whereby each person relates to the world from the standpoint of “I” and “other.” When the ego-self intervenes it inserts opinions, interpretations, judgments, and preferences. It requires that I see “this” by comparison to “that,” or egoistically for those who enjoy language.
We cannot avoid the apprehension of our life dualistically. And in this dualistic perspective there’s a deeply imbedded sense of “me,” which is juxtaposed to, and separate from, “you” and “other.” The present moment as-it-is, denotes a being-in-the-world without a separation into me and other. No judgments; no better than, or worse than. My meditation practice is about dropping the ego-self and immersing my attention wholeheartedly in the work of this moment. It’s about making an effort to let go of attachment to preferences, fully realizing the dualistic aspect of my being-in-the-world, while guiding my actions by a recognition and acceptance of the present moment, just as-it-is.
So if you are like me, and you are finally able to wrap your mind around it all up to this point, you will likely experience some consternation when you read about something called the real-Self (or sometimes referred to as the true-Self). It seemed to fly in the face of what I had struggled so hard to understand. What follows is how I have escaped the grasp of my confusion.
Our “real-Self” is the Dharma; the essence of all things constantly cycling through eternal change. In this case each passing moment – time, Bob, Nadine, Ken, Jimmy - is the arising of new causes and conditions. However, the key or operative idea in this is change. We are not composed of a concrete entity called “me” going through a process of change. We are change. And our real-Self, is that eternal changing; the Dharma. In other words, we are change as it represents itself to our senses at any given instant….and then we change. Our sensory apparatus cannot process this Dharma except within certain parameters of sensation. We are not constructed in such a way as to be able to process the true quality - is-ness - of each moment. Sentience is our prison, and our sentence is a life-time.
Life is the continual flux or flow of arising conditions (or causes depending upon what term you are most comfortable with). Dharma is the term I'm using to represent this flow of life, including the human organism, as it is unfolding. Therefore, I offer the term Dharma as a representation of the real-Self as opposed to the ego-self that I colloquially identify as “me.”
The “real-Self” is our unfolding. It’s not a discreet entity that has longevity amid an otherwise changing world. Change is the essence all things; the Dharma, the Way. Oneness is an undifferentiated whole-ness out of which our mind identifies limited parameters of sensory experience. And the real-Self is that Oneness which cannot be named or perceived because it is empty of the division, or separation, into a dichotomy of opposites.
What we refer to as discreet entities (named things) are actually contingencies or change as the arising of causes or conditions (aggregates of causes) acting upon other conditions. It is not possible for any single thing to exist on its own, or by itself alone. In our world of material forms, if I think something is true or real, it means I have added a characteristic (reality or truth) to the object or thing perceived. On the other hand, perception offers only “is-ness.” So there remains a dichotomous gap between that thing as-it-is, and that to which the name refers i.e., the quality of real or true, beautiful or ugly. My mind deconstructs the wholeness –oneness as-it-is - into parts or discreet dualistic units; the beautiful or true juxtaposed with the ugly or false. In our material world of form, in order for there to be a reality or a truth, there must be a non-reality or untruth; a dualistic “other.” An unavoidable fact for the human mind in a world of ten-thousand things.
On the other hand, the life of one who has realized one’s true-Self, is one in which dualities are noted but not clung to as ultimate truth. In other words, this manner of being in the world is to dwell peacefully in this moment…Now just as-it-is.
Practically speaking, whether one does something for another, or for oneself, the life of Zen is to forget all that comes before and after, and just do each deed for the purpose of the deed itself: here, now. This is to be your “real-Self.”
November 5, 2009
A Word about Consciousness
There is an entire field of philosophical inquiry into the nature of human consciousness, but I am defining it here as the capacity to think abstractly, to be able to conceptualize a past, present, and future, and to be aware that I am aware. As far as we know, this is unique to the human species, and to be able to imagine ourselves in yesterday and project ourselves into the future is at once, a gift and a curse. It gives us power over all other sentient beings and at the same time, it makes us more vulnerable to an illusion. One such illusion is when we see something ugly and we think “ugly” is real; when we see something beautiful, and we think “beautiful” is real. The things that we encounter through our senses we consider to be real. The illusion is that we believe that “what we think” is necessarily true outside the parameters of our own consciousness.
I can, for example, tell myself that I will achieve enlightenment in record time, however unlikely that may be. And for no other reason than that I thought it, I can believe it to be a fact. Now it may happen. I may actually achieve enlightenment quickly by some standard, but the thought itself is just a thought, ephemeral as a rainbow. There is nothing inherently wrong with having this, or any other thought. However, it is valuable to remember that outside my mind, a thought has the reality of a dream.
You’re probably nodding your head in agreement. It’s common sense when we lay it all out and look at it. Yet we routinely base our behavior on the mistaken belief that what we think is somehow real. Through some mysterious alchemy the thought becomes more than just chemical charges jumping from synapse to synapse (an obvious oversimplification of the brain’s biochemistry). We begin to pile one metamorphosed idea upon another and before long we’ve even forgotten the origin of what has become a living, breathing prejudice.
If I tell myself that all Muslim’s are terrorists I will first begin see evidence of this in otherwise neutral phenomena, and then I will begin to react to this “evidence,” and finally, act as if the original thought were true in the world outside my chamber door. Or, if through the process of a lengthy mental scenario - aided perhaps by alcohol, drugs, or just an over indulgence in my own storytelling - I decide that my neighbor is plotting to poison my dog, I am liable to treat this unsuspecting, and probably innocent friend, as though he is actually a suspect in my imaginary crime. I will believe my story, not because I’m bad or insane, but because one aspect of human consciousness is that we are wired to always interpret our own view of things as the truth.
Always? Well, unless of course I am mindful of this process, and through a constant awareness, remain in touch with the fact that the subject matter of my thinking is under the control of a myriad of biological, chemical, and psychological factors. In short, it’s not objective.
Take the time to realize this now. Look closely at what you think, the beliefs you hold. How many of them are based on evidence you have experienced? How many are the result of listening to someone else, reading what another has to say on a subject, or blindly accepting what your teachers have said or written? How many are based on fears, prejudices, anger, and ego or pride? I’m not suggesting that everything we think is false; I’m saying we should not take it for granted that a thought represents a truth.
The process of human consciousness is a miraculous tool. We are able to plan for a future, learn from the past, and do either one while choosing new colors for the children’s bedroom. It is however a sword with two edges. It allows us to create, imagine, and project anything, but what we think is self-referential and this is the edge that cuts us. A wise man once said, “Never believe what you think.”
One purpose for meditation is to break through these illusions and our affliction of an attachment to self; to rest in the equanimity of the vast, open nature of our true-Self. The Buddha is reported to have said just before he died, “All component things must grow old and be dissolved again. Seek you for that which is permanent, and work out your salvation with diligence."
I can, for example, tell myself that I will achieve enlightenment in record time, however unlikely that may be. And for no other reason than that I thought it, I can believe it to be a fact. Now it may happen. I may actually achieve enlightenment quickly by some standard, but the thought itself is just a thought, ephemeral as a rainbow. There is nothing inherently wrong with having this, or any other thought. However, it is valuable to remember that outside my mind, a thought has the reality of a dream.
You’re probably nodding your head in agreement. It’s common sense when we lay it all out and look at it. Yet we routinely base our behavior on the mistaken belief that what we think is somehow real. Through some mysterious alchemy the thought becomes more than just chemical charges jumping from synapse to synapse (an obvious oversimplification of the brain’s biochemistry). We begin to pile one metamorphosed idea upon another and before long we’ve even forgotten the origin of what has become a living, breathing prejudice.
If I tell myself that all Muslim’s are terrorists I will first begin see evidence of this in otherwise neutral phenomena, and then I will begin to react to this “evidence,” and finally, act as if the original thought were true in the world outside my chamber door. Or, if through the process of a lengthy mental scenario - aided perhaps by alcohol, drugs, or just an over indulgence in my own storytelling - I decide that my neighbor is plotting to poison my dog, I am liable to treat this unsuspecting, and probably innocent friend, as though he is actually a suspect in my imaginary crime. I will believe my story, not because I’m bad or insane, but because one aspect of human consciousness is that we are wired to always interpret our own view of things as the truth.
Always? Well, unless of course I am mindful of this process, and through a constant awareness, remain in touch with the fact that the subject matter of my thinking is under the control of a myriad of biological, chemical, and psychological factors. In short, it’s not objective.
Take the time to realize this now. Look closely at what you think, the beliefs you hold. How many of them are based on evidence you have experienced? How many are the result of listening to someone else, reading what another has to say on a subject, or blindly accepting what your teachers have said or written? How many are based on fears, prejudices, anger, and ego or pride? I’m not suggesting that everything we think is false; I’m saying we should not take it for granted that a thought represents a truth.
The process of human consciousness is a miraculous tool. We are able to plan for a future, learn from the past, and do either one while choosing new colors for the children’s bedroom. It is however a sword with two edges. It allows us to create, imagine, and project anything, but what we think is self-referential and this is the edge that cuts us. A wise man once said, “Never believe what you think.”
One purpose for meditation is to break through these illusions and our affliction of an attachment to self; to rest in the equanimity of the vast, open nature of our true-Self. The Buddha is reported to have said just before he died, “All component things must grow old and be dissolved again. Seek you for that which is permanent, and work out your salvation with diligence."
Beginners Mind
Zen is full of paradoxical statements and other unlikely verbal bedfellows, many of which we find ourselves sitting with for long periods of time in utter confusion. In my case it would sometimes even be without enough understanding to be confused. Zen Master Hakuin spoke of a Great Ball of Doubt, Suzuki referred to Beginners Mind, and Philip Kapleau in his book “The Three Pillars of Zen,” simply referred to it as Doubt. I read the word Doubt many times and thinking I understood the authors use and meaning, it simply didn’t make any sense. How could doubting something increase your knowledge of it? Since I had learned by this point in my journey that my being confused was more about me than the author, I just let it go and continued to study and sit and listen.
Several years later, having forgotten that I didn’t understand the doubting that others found instrumental to gaining enlightenment, I was listening to a Dharma talk twelve-hundred miles from home and “whack”, there it was. The speaker referenced doubting with the word "not-knowing." Whoa! It was as if the words kaleidoscopically came together and I almost cried. Out of nowhere I understood. I could see where I had for so long been completely blind - ignorant. It was obvious and quite simple. Doubt is not-knowing and furthermore, having an “open mind.”
In her book, “Nothing Special: Living Zen,” Charlotte Joko Beck has written, “When nothing is special, everything can be.” The process of making something special (naming or judging) separates us from all aspects of that which is named which are thereby excluded. If we persist in this process we find ourselves hopelessly entrenched in the proverbial closed mind; closed to anything new and unable to be present to the moment as it is. Not-knowing and not making something special are two ways of saying the same thing.
In the vernacular of Zen an Empty mind is the same as Beginner’s mind, Doubt, and Not-knowing. They all refer to having space within one’s view of the world to be open to really examining everything as though it were new and unfamiliar. An empty mind has much room for learning, whereas a mind that is full will have great difficulty absorbing anything that does not fit into the perspective to which it is attached. In other words all these terms - empty, beginner’s, not-knowing, and doubting - are referencing a particular posture of mind. It is a posture, or mental perspective, which allows for the introduction of something old or new, without preconceived opinions; without attachment to opinions.
In the instance I have described about myself, my mind had a single definition for the word doubt and I was unable to adjust to a new one. I was unable to conceptualize a meaning different from the one I already had, and therefore my first reaction was to judge the new and confusing idea as wrong. That’s what we all do to one degree or another. The mind of a child, on the other hand, processes everything for the first time without prejudice. Not having prior experiences that pigeon-hole ideas, words, and feelings, she is learning for the first time what things mean. However once we learn something, our natural tendency is to resist having it questioned, confused, or reversed. Therefore, as we move further and further away from the malleable mind of childhood, we become increasingly entrenched in the illusion that what we know is the real and the only truth, and we are less able to learn.
If my mind is not empty, in the sense of non-attachment - if it is filled with opinions or prejudices (recognized or otherwise) - I can do little but reinforce what I already think and this validation will be misinterpreted as proof of a truth beyond my personal vision. A mind that is empty on the other hand, is without preconceived definitions, explanations, and ideas about what is being observed. It is to see a thing “as it is”, not how I want it to be, or have been conditioned to see it.
So how do we take an adult mind that is programmed to remain steadfast to its own perspective and make it empty, cause it to doubt, and render it not-knowing? Each of us has the ability to choose to be present to the world in this way and it is through meditation that we strengthen the muscles necessary to achieve this seemingly Herculean feat. We can begin by recognizing that posture is everything.
Several years later, having forgotten that I didn’t understand the doubting that others found instrumental to gaining enlightenment, I was listening to a Dharma talk twelve-hundred miles from home and “whack”, there it was. The speaker referenced doubting with the word "not-knowing." Whoa! It was as if the words kaleidoscopically came together and I almost cried. Out of nowhere I understood. I could see where I had for so long been completely blind - ignorant. It was obvious and quite simple. Doubt is not-knowing and furthermore, having an “open mind.”
In her book, “Nothing Special: Living Zen,” Charlotte Joko Beck has written, “When nothing is special, everything can be.” The process of making something special (naming or judging) separates us from all aspects of that which is named which are thereby excluded. If we persist in this process we find ourselves hopelessly entrenched in the proverbial closed mind; closed to anything new and unable to be present to the moment as it is. Not-knowing and not making something special are two ways of saying the same thing.
In the vernacular of Zen an Empty mind is the same as Beginner’s mind, Doubt, and Not-knowing. They all refer to having space within one’s view of the world to be open to really examining everything as though it were new and unfamiliar. An empty mind has much room for learning, whereas a mind that is full will have great difficulty absorbing anything that does not fit into the perspective to which it is attached. In other words all these terms - empty, beginner’s, not-knowing, and doubting - are referencing a particular posture of mind. It is a posture, or mental perspective, which allows for the introduction of something old or new, without preconceived opinions; without attachment to opinions.
In the instance I have described about myself, my mind had a single definition for the word doubt and I was unable to adjust to a new one. I was unable to conceptualize a meaning different from the one I already had, and therefore my first reaction was to judge the new and confusing idea as wrong. That’s what we all do to one degree or another. The mind of a child, on the other hand, processes everything for the first time without prejudice. Not having prior experiences that pigeon-hole ideas, words, and feelings, she is learning for the first time what things mean. However once we learn something, our natural tendency is to resist having it questioned, confused, or reversed. Therefore, as we move further and further away from the malleable mind of childhood, we become increasingly entrenched in the illusion that what we know is the real and the only truth, and we are less able to learn.
If my mind is not empty, in the sense of non-attachment - if it is filled with opinions or prejudices (recognized or otherwise) - I can do little but reinforce what I already think and this validation will be misinterpreted as proof of a truth beyond my personal vision. A mind that is empty on the other hand, is without preconceived definitions, explanations, and ideas about what is being observed. It is to see a thing “as it is”, not how I want it to be, or have been conditioned to see it.
So how do we take an adult mind that is programmed to remain steadfast to its own perspective and make it empty, cause it to doubt, and render it not-knowing? Each of us has the ability to choose to be present to the world in this way and it is through meditation that we strengthen the muscles necessary to achieve this seemingly Herculean feat. We can begin by recognizing that posture is everything.
November 4, 2009
Chasing One's Tale
Life is change and the human mind is our connection to the experience of living. Changes in the environment are processed through the senses and this movement or change is noted and registered into storage or memory. The self is the result of yesterday’s tree experienced again today. Or in another instance, a taste experienced and recognized as having been tasted before. It has two distinct entities or data points – sugar then and sugar now, the past and the present – and it is at this juncture that the observer “I” is born.
Let’s try an example. When the wavelengths for red enter the eye it is processed by the brain and noted or stored as red light, although the word or ideas of ‘red’ and ‘light’ are not actually present. Just the experience prior to this naming is recorded, as it is; the raw data. Naming occurs within a different function.
When this stored data is subsequently encountered and processed again, recall is triggered and both the present and previously experienced (memorized) data are held simultaneously in the present. In one sense the “self” is, like the color red, nothing more than a logical outgrowth of the process of memory: a meta-function. Without memory there is no foundation for a self, a past or future. Without memory there is no past, without a past there is nothing to project – no future – and no “I” to occupy it.
It is a process within the brain that creates the illusion of a self, an “I”, which is separate from, and unique within, the objectified experience. Stated differently, the “I” is not actually separate from the experience; rather it is an illusion created by the process of memory in conjunction with the present moment. It is an illusion, because in truth there is no self who sees, separate from the act of seeing. The “I” or self is the experience itself.
The irony for me is that the self created by, and through this natural mental process, believes that the split is real and created by an “other.” So the creator of my stress and suffering, while feeling unique and abiding, searches for the cause of its own frustration, separation, and alienation through a misty ignorance of Impermanence. We are, at the very least, destined to be tethered to this process of our own thinking and to “chase the creation of our own tale”.
Let’s try an example. When the wavelengths for red enter the eye it is processed by the brain and noted or stored as red light, although the word or ideas of ‘red’ and ‘light’ are not actually present. Just the experience prior to this naming is recorded, as it is; the raw data. Naming occurs within a different function.
When this stored data is subsequently encountered and processed again, recall is triggered and both the present and previously experienced (memorized) data are held simultaneously in the present. In one sense the “self” is, like the color red, nothing more than a logical outgrowth of the process of memory: a meta-function. Without memory there is no foundation for a self, a past or future. Without memory there is no past, without a past there is nothing to project – no future – and no “I” to occupy it.
It is a process within the brain that creates the illusion of a self, an “I”, which is separate from, and unique within, the objectified experience. Stated differently, the “I” is not actually separate from the experience; rather it is an illusion created by the process of memory in conjunction with the present moment. It is an illusion, because in truth there is no self who sees, separate from the act of seeing. The “I” or self is the experience itself.
The irony for me is that the self created by, and through this natural mental process, believes that the split is real and created by an “other.” So the creator of my stress and suffering, while feeling unique and abiding, searches for the cause of its own frustration, separation, and alienation through a misty ignorance of Impermanence. We are, at the very least, destined to be tethered to this process of our own thinking and to “chase the creation of our own tale”.
What Time is it ....Now?
Does time really go by as it seems? Does time actually pass or does it merely seem that way? Haven’t we all wished for more hours in a day at one time or another? What exactly is time anyway?
One afternoon not long ago I found myself sitting quietly, enjoying the rarely visible winter sun as it filtered through the Venetian blinds casting shadows across my desk and floor. Specks of otherwise invisible particles of dust danced to the rhythm of my breathing and thoughts smiled at my good fortune. However, imperceptibly at first, something changed. Outside it was perhaps the air turning cool as clouds slowly dissolved afternoon shadows and the sun faded behind dark storm clouds rising from the horizon.
Inside it happened in an instant and without warning. An acrid belch alerted the back of my throat to my regret, and I heard the silent yet familiar lamentation, “Time sure flies when I’m enjoying myself.” But what of this winged time I mused and instantly replied, “It neither flies nor otherwise moves - this phantom of my mind.” In fact, I was unable to anywhere find this elusive enemy of my pleasure.
For something to exist for us it must stand out from its surroundings, background, or “other.” Imagine we are standing in the middle of a dense forest at midday with intense sunlight filtering through a canopy of branches and leaves, casting distinct, dancing shadows on the forest floor. The perceived change from light to dark is our brain “seeing” differences or changes within the visual field. Whether we speak of light, texture, taste, or sound - without change we do not recognize a differentiation. There would be no world - no one, no two, no “ten-thousand things”. Ask yourself where time would exist in such a world? Time is change or oneness, being dissected into the Taoist’s ten-thousand things as it passes through the filter of our senses And without this process there is no basis for the notion of time.
“I” and Time do not exist outside our mind. They are the result of accumulated past experiences that are stamped with reality because they are seen again through memory function. The world in which we function, is the product of recall, memory, history. And without it, the self that seems to remember would not exist.
Admittedly, it’s all a bit more complex than that, but simply stated, the “I” or self that we think is a concrete entity is actually just a function of human consciousness and is dependent upon memory. The whole process takes place without intent on our part – it is simply within the nature of human mental functioning, and is at the heart of the human condition.
Today I realize, though less frequently than I’d like, that time is just not real. That is to say, without my mind, time does not exist. Instead, what exists in nature is simply change. When we identify, note, or categorize this change into discreet units, we create what we call the “passage of time”. This recognition of change is granted through the function of memory and without it we would have no more idea of time than that of a stone. Clearly, life is impermanent; it is change. Dissecting this ever moving flow of change, we arrive at the elusive moment that seems to pass too swiftly when it embodies pleasure, and can drag on endlessly when we are anxious or frightened.
Time is our way of noting and immortalizing a moment out of eternal change, and is dependent upon the impermanence of all things. So without change, there is no time. The hands on a clock change position and we call this the movement of time. It is arbitrary, the product of human thought, and dependent upon the proper functioning of our senses. The rate of change can be the imperceptible swiftness within the molecular world, or the relative snails-pace of the galactic universe. The changing from day to night, season to season, or hour to hour are changes that our senses are able to register. But without change all things would cease to exist as they do for us as human beings. Our sensory apparatus rely on this change and regardless of speed, the action of impermanence –change - is existence as we know it…..and it is only now.
One afternoon not long ago I found myself sitting quietly, enjoying the rarely visible winter sun as it filtered through the Venetian blinds casting shadows across my desk and floor. Specks of otherwise invisible particles of dust danced to the rhythm of my breathing and thoughts smiled at my good fortune. However, imperceptibly at first, something changed. Outside it was perhaps the air turning cool as clouds slowly dissolved afternoon shadows and the sun faded behind dark storm clouds rising from the horizon.
Inside it happened in an instant and without warning. An acrid belch alerted the back of my throat to my regret, and I heard the silent yet familiar lamentation, “Time sure flies when I’m enjoying myself.” But what of this winged time I mused and instantly replied, “It neither flies nor otherwise moves - this phantom of my mind.” In fact, I was unable to anywhere find this elusive enemy of my pleasure.
For something to exist for us it must stand out from its surroundings, background, or “other.” Imagine we are standing in the middle of a dense forest at midday with intense sunlight filtering through a canopy of branches and leaves, casting distinct, dancing shadows on the forest floor. The perceived change from light to dark is our brain “seeing” differences or changes within the visual field. Whether we speak of light, texture, taste, or sound - without change we do not recognize a differentiation. There would be no world - no one, no two, no “ten-thousand things”. Ask yourself where time would exist in such a world? Time is change or oneness, being dissected into the Taoist’s ten-thousand things as it passes through the filter of our senses And without this process there is no basis for the notion of time.
“I” and Time do not exist outside our mind. They are the result of accumulated past experiences that are stamped with reality because they are seen again through memory function. The world in which we function, is the product of recall, memory, history. And without it, the self that seems to remember would not exist.
Admittedly, it’s all a bit more complex than that, but simply stated, the “I” or self that we think is a concrete entity is actually just a function of human consciousness and is dependent upon memory. The whole process takes place without intent on our part – it is simply within the nature of human mental functioning, and is at the heart of the human condition.
Today I realize, though less frequently than I’d like, that time is just not real. That is to say, without my mind, time does not exist. Instead, what exists in nature is simply change. When we identify, note, or categorize this change into discreet units, we create what we call the “passage of time”. This recognition of change is granted through the function of memory and without it we would have no more idea of time than that of a stone. Clearly, life is impermanent; it is change. Dissecting this ever moving flow of change, we arrive at the elusive moment that seems to pass too swiftly when it embodies pleasure, and can drag on endlessly when we are anxious or frightened.
Time is our way of noting and immortalizing a moment out of eternal change, and is dependent upon the impermanence of all things. So without change, there is no time. The hands on a clock change position and we call this the movement of time. It is arbitrary, the product of human thought, and dependent upon the proper functioning of our senses. The rate of change can be the imperceptible swiftness within the molecular world, or the relative snails-pace of the galactic universe. The changing from day to night, season to season, or hour to hour are changes that our senses are able to register. But without change all things would cease to exist as they do for us as human beings. Our sensory apparatus rely on this change and regardless of speed, the action of impermanence –change - is existence as we know it…..and it is only now.
Thoughts on Impermanence
The notion of Impermanence has been, ironically, one of the most comforting aspects of my spiritual archaeology. On first impression it would seem to be asking us to think about something that doesn’t exist. But with some further inquiry we find we are being asked to recognize how thoughts, the product of the mind, are ephemeral, and lacking in the permanence we ordinarily grant them. In fact when we meditate for any length of time on our thinking we find that we aren’t even in control of when, where, or how often any particular series of pictures, notions, or ideas will arise. While we are able to direct our thinking to particular tasks in order to function in the world, we find when we try to stop our thinking that we are virtually at the mercy of our “monkey mind.”
With some practice on the cushion we find that we can, on a good day, let go of the mental monkey swinging wildly from one ideational limb to another, and just watch the thoughts come and go; emerging, merging, and receding, as though they were on strings controlled by an unseen puppeteer. I found myself making a smooth transition from this awareness to the ever changing body I observed in the mirror each morning with sagging skin and graying hair. It seemed obvious to me that all of the things in my life were but temporary visions of an ever fluid body of matter. All things are impermanent. ALL things are impermanent; not just the obvious ones, but even those ideas we consider self-evident and readily accept as truth like the Self and Time.
One weekend during zazen with a group in Bath, Ohio, I experienced one of those mini-insights that make all the rigorous, boring hours worthwhile. I was aware of a rooster crowing. It occurred to me that at that moment, that I was the crowing. This was immediately followed by the thought that having thought this, “I” returned, and I was therefore no longer the crowing. This of course led me into a litany of unwanted thoughts and multifarious attempts at dropping them. On the drive home after meditation however, I explored the idea intellectually. What, in truth, is the ‘self’? Where is that me or “I”, which as human beings, we are so sure exists and is separate from all other things?
When fully involved in some task - anything from feeling anger, to thinking about sex, shooting a foul shot, or sinking a long putt - “I” is not present. That is to say, the “I” in I am, is not there. Whenever fully absorbed in the moment with whatever is being done, the “I” is actually missing. (We might even say missing in action.) When “I” is not present - in that moment - I am that which is being done, thought, or felt. If the feeling is anger, love, or if I’m just in the midst of criticism, I am at that moment the anger, criticism, or love. These are not happening to me…they are me. Suddenly it all made sense.
When I think something negative about someone else, I am that which I think. I not only cannot elude ownership of what I think, but I actually become the very thing I’m thinking at that moment. The other person may or may not be what I’m attaching to him, but it is for certain that I am. Positive or negative, for better or for worse, I am married to my thoughts…we are one.
But where does this self or “I” come from and where does it go? The self is present only when my thinking is in the past or the future; when regretting or planning, remembering or hoping. Regardless of the subject, this “I” is present because as objects, the past and the future need a subject. When not fully absorbed in the present, the mechanics of memory and projection will objectify. This objectification process also requires the creating of a subject and so, the construct “I” is born out of the dualism inherent in the mechanism of human thought. Out of an ephemeral past and future we are thrust into a world of seemingly solid matter as the observing “I” or self.
However, when fully in the moment, I am that which is going on in that moment - it is me. And there is no “I” (subject) to observe it (the object). The process of our existence, the standing out from our present moment and remembering a past or projecting into a future, gives the human species the illusion of a unique and separate self (subject) which is experienced and labeled as “I” or “me”.
“I” wasn’t present when typing the previous statements. “I” was replaced by the ideas themselves, and in doing so the typist/thinker was the thoughts. “I” returned as the typing stopped and the typist thought about what had been typed; only to disappear again as typing resumed, fully absorbed in the act of typing this sentence. Then the “I” returned once again and remembered what was written. It’s all very fluid and impermanent this coming and going of “I”. So where is this “I”? Or better yet, what is it? Is it a thing at all?
With some practice on the cushion we find that we can, on a good day, let go of the mental monkey swinging wildly from one ideational limb to another, and just watch the thoughts come and go; emerging, merging, and receding, as though they were on strings controlled by an unseen puppeteer. I found myself making a smooth transition from this awareness to the ever changing body I observed in the mirror each morning with sagging skin and graying hair. It seemed obvious to me that all of the things in my life were but temporary visions of an ever fluid body of matter. All things are impermanent. ALL things are impermanent; not just the obvious ones, but even those ideas we consider self-evident and readily accept as truth like the Self and Time.
One weekend during zazen with a group in Bath, Ohio, I experienced one of those mini-insights that make all the rigorous, boring hours worthwhile. I was aware of a rooster crowing. It occurred to me that at that moment, that I was the crowing. This was immediately followed by the thought that having thought this, “I” returned, and I was therefore no longer the crowing. This of course led me into a litany of unwanted thoughts and multifarious attempts at dropping them. On the drive home after meditation however, I explored the idea intellectually. What, in truth, is the ‘self’? Where is that me or “I”, which as human beings, we are so sure exists and is separate from all other things?
When fully involved in some task - anything from feeling anger, to thinking about sex, shooting a foul shot, or sinking a long putt - “I” is not present. That is to say, the “I” in I am, is not there. Whenever fully absorbed in the moment with whatever is being done, the “I” is actually missing. (We might even say missing in action.) When “I” is not present - in that moment - I am that which is being done, thought, or felt. If the feeling is anger, love, or if I’m just in the midst of criticism, I am at that moment the anger, criticism, or love. These are not happening to me…they are me. Suddenly it all made sense.
When I think something negative about someone else, I am that which I think. I not only cannot elude ownership of what I think, but I actually become the very thing I’m thinking at that moment. The other person may or may not be what I’m attaching to him, but it is for certain that I am. Positive or negative, for better or for worse, I am married to my thoughts…we are one.
But where does this self or “I” come from and where does it go? The self is present only when my thinking is in the past or the future; when regretting or planning, remembering or hoping. Regardless of the subject, this “I” is present because as objects, the past and the future need a subject. When not fully absorbed in the present, the mechanics of memory and projection will objectify. This objectification process also requires the creating of a subject and so, the construct “I” is born out of the dualism inherent in the mechanism of human thought. Out of an ephemeral past and future we are thrust into a world of seemingly solid matter as the observing “I” or self.
However, when fully in the moment, I am that which is going on in that moment - it is me. And there is no “I” (subject) to observe it (the object). The process of our existence, the standing out from our present moment and remembering a past or projecting into a future, gives the human species the illusion of a unique and separate self (subject) which is experienced and labeled as “I” or “me”.
“I” wasn’t present when typing the previous statements. “I” was replaced by the ideas themselves, and in doing so the typist/thinker was the thoughts. “I” returned as the typing stopped and the typist thought about what had been typed; only to disappear again as typing resumed, fully absorbed in the act of typing this sentence. Then the “I” returned once again and remembered what was written. It’s all very fluid and impermanent this coming and going of “I”. So where is this “I”? Or better yet, what is it? Is it a thing at all?
Along the Way
When I first began meditation I was eager to achieve enlightenment. I looked forward to the promise of transcendence, a release from the pain and difficulty associated with human existence. I was young and certain that I could reach this enlightened state - this mystical place where I would no longer ‘grasp at things’ and be able to ‘see’ the truth that liberates men and women from worldly concerns and the ever spinning wheel of “samsara” – and do so in record time. I studied. I read. I meditated. I purchased many books and tried “zazen,” both on my own and with others, and what I quickly found was that nothing happens quickly, especially when you are looking in the wrong place.
I thought enlightenment was a place; a peaceful world outside myself, somewhere beyond this moment. And I figured that if I learned the necessary techniques I would be transported to this wonderland of tranquility. As happens to all good plans of mice and me, there were roadblocks, setbacks, and frustrations that interfered with my timetable for success and nearly caused me to conclude that I had been duped. I began to think that there really was in fact, no such thing as enlightenment. That it was all a sham, a ploy to sell books and….well, you know what I’m talking about ….if I don’t get it there must be something wrong with it.
I continued to study and meditate however, and began to realize that I had not been studying correctly. I had been reading from a place of knowing something rather than from Suzuki’s Beginners Mind. I realized enlightenment and nirvana, like the truth I had been searching for, are available in each and every moment. Enlightenment is not a place to go, or a thing to get. It is being present to this moment, open to all that it contains without it being perceived as good or bad. No judgment; simply being present to it just “as it is”. Enlightenment, we might say, is with everyone at all times.
What does it mean to be enlightened? What was the nature of Shakyamuni’s enlightenment? How does human consciousness block us from experiencing enlightenment…from being enlightened? These were the new questions that rose to center stage.
I have always been suspicious of one who professes to know what the long deceased author meant five centuries ago when he set to paper an idea that got him hung in the town square. I don’t want to repeat this act of self-aggrandizement. I write with the hope that by the time someone reads this sentence, I will have a clearer and perhaps quite different perspective than the one presented here. The lines representing the limits of my knowledge are the same as those representing the limits of my experience, and those limits are expanded by the force of time and the effort I expend to remain open amid the impermanence of life.
I thought enlightenment was a place; a peaceful world outside myself, somewhere beyond this moment. And I figured that if I learned the necessary techniques I would be transported to this wonderland of tranquility. As happens to all good plans of mice and me, there were roadblocks, setbacks, and frustrations that interfered with my timetable for success and nearly caused me to conclude that I had been duped. I began to think that there really was in fact, no such thing as enlightenment. That it was all a sham, a ploy to sell books and….well, you know what I’m talking about ….if I don’t get it there must be something wrong with it.
I continued to study and meditate however, and began to realize that I had not been studying correctly. I had been reading from a place of knowing something rather than from Suzuki’s Beginners Mind. I realized enlightenment and nirvana, like the truth I had been searching for, are available in each and every moment. Enlightenment is not a place to go, or a thing to get. It is being present to this moment, open to all that it contains without it being perceived as good or bad. No judgment; simply being present to it just “as it is”. Enlightenment, we might say, is with everyone at all times.
What does it mean to be enlightened? What was the nature of Shakyamuni’s enlightenment? How does human consciousness block us from experiencing enlightenment…from being enlightened? These were the new questions that rose to center stage.
I have always been suspicious of one who professes to know what the long deceased author meant five centuries ago when he set to paper an idea that got him hung in the town square. I don’t want to repeat this act of self-aggrandizement. I write with the hope that by the time someone reads this sentence, I will have a clearer and perhaps quite different perspective than the one presented here. The lines representing the limits of my knowledge are the same as those representing the limits of my experience, and those limits are expanded by the force of time and the effort I expend to remain open amid the impermanence of life.
October 17, 2009
Equanimity
The following is an excerpt from an ongoing email dialogue with a friend in Asheville, North Carolina, 2009.
Question: What's the complementary opposite of equanimity?
First let me explain the terms as I understand them.
Equanimity is a term denoting a posture, perspective, or relationship. For instance, it could be described as the still point between two dichotomous thought/feelings embodied in the happiness/sadness duality.
Equanimity is not “a state of counter-balance to a negative.” I don’t see it as a state at all, except in the process of objectifying it in order to talk about it. Rather, it is better understood as a center point of no value between positive and negative values; the dualities which we cling to, or recoil from, in our daily lives.
Equanimity does not have a material counterpart. It is a relationship that we attain - a posture, an attitude, an understanding, and/or acceptance of - with regard to the dualities that are present to our senses.
The term complementary opposite, to me refers to an opposite in the world of dualities which creates a “0” (so to speak) - as if I said, “the complementary opposite of -5 is +5,” and therefore we have “0.”
A “complementary” opposite is one that leaves no trace of either. It compliments one part of a duality so exactly that there is no longer either pole.
Now to answer the question “what is the complementary opposite of equanimity?” My response is, “Grasping" or "Attachment." Let me elaborate.
Equanimity is a “letting go” of preference, judgment, or we might say “letting go of the attachment to” these attitudes.
Grasping (or Aversion) refers to the action that comprises the attachment to these attitudes. Both letting go and grasping, or equanimity and attachment, are relationships not specific entities or things. They all require an object in order to refer to a specific thing.
Thus, if we suggest that a person is attached to “X” (or some particular result), that attachment will be eliminated by acquiring a posture of equanimity, or a releasing of our attachment to that particular “X.” It’s not as though the person will let go of “X” and then have something called “not-X” - “X” is merely negated. Our language makes it seem reasonable to say “the more equanimity we have, the less attachment we will suffer from,” but that is misleading.
Equanimity is not a thing that can be added or subtracted as apples in a basket. Equanimity is the relationship of having let go, or having dropped (a [-] minus) the object of attachment (a [+] positive) to which one clings. It correlates to the letting go of, or releasing, the dissecting process of dualism and thereby nullifying that duality.
Perhaps it would be helpful to see equanimity as an act of dropping (-) that object someone has grasped onto, and therein has become attached (+) to. For instance, if a person is standing in the yard empty-handed (0) and someone throws a ball and the person catches (grasps onto) it, the ball has been added (+). If the person subsequently drops the ball (-) however, he returns to the original state (0). The process of dropping (equanimity) refers to the act of “letting go of.”
Another picture with the same general analogy; a boy stands in the yard and his friend throws five apples to him. That would be 5 apples added to his person. He can maintain a posture whereby these five apples are attached to his person or he may choose to get rid of them. It will be a complementary opposite of the acquisition of these 5 apples, if he chooses to drop or throw the 5 apples away. On the other hand if he decides to take one apple home with him, he will remain attached (+) to one apple and the action is no longer complementary.
Perhaps what I’m suggesting has to be imagined metaphorically. If so, I hope the situation described as follows will be helpful.
We’re driving along a country road and we see the carcass of a newly killed fawn laying in the weeds next the road. We have some sort of emotional reaction. Let’s say we feel sad or perhaps angry with God or in some other way, we suffer as a result of what we see. This would be a negative reaction and noted above as an attachment or grasping (+), which arises out of our learning or experiences, having to do with baby deer or animals in general. Our history then becomes the condition for the arising of our suffering, in this case negative thoughts/feelings. We might even imagine acts of terrorism against the driver who ran it over.
In terms of my + and – discussion above, the negative emotional reaction, or thinking, is a +, or an addition to the simple registering of data. There is instead, the forming of a judgment or preference beyond, or more (+) than, just an observation.
However if we realize that the fawn’s death is just a natural part of the cycle of life and death, and that the carcass will decompose and become the food for, or condition, assisting many other arising forms in our world; the grass, flowers, food for scavenging birds and other animals, etc., our posture changes. At some point in this process, perhaps our teaching on Dependent-Arising comes back to us and we reach that moment where suffering disappears (-). Letting go arises and an acceptance is achieved which might be called “equanimity in the face of what is.”
Leading a life of equanimity is not a matter of going from anger to happiness, where the emotional pendulum swings in the opposite direction past zero. Nor is it about becoming an unfeeling automaton.
Equanimity is a posture wherein we are able to be with “what is” without attaching to either pole of a duality; pleasant/unpleasant or happy/sad etc. And it is a goal to aspire to - not a place where we can expect to arrive and set up housekeeping forever. When the preference (emotion, or attitude, etc.) is let go of, we will experience the balance or acceptance of what is (as-it-is). Equanimity arises as an attitude or relationship to our humanity without becoming attached to its extremes, and in this example, balances suffering and non-suffering in the Buddhist sense.
********
Question: What's the complementary opposite of equanimity?
First let me explain the terms as I understand them.
Equanimity is a term denoting a posture, perspective, or relationship. For instance, it could be described as the still point between two dichotomous thought/feelings embodied in the happiness/sadness duality.
Equanimity is not “a state of counter-balance to a negative.” I don’t see it as a state at all, except in the process of objectifying it in order to talk about it. Rather, it is better understood as a center point of no value between positive and negative values; the dualities which we cling to, or recoil from, in our daily lives.
Equanimity does not have a material counterpart. It is a relationship that we attain - a posture, an attitude, an understanding, and/or acceptance of - with regard to the dualities that are present to our senses.
The term complementary opposite, to me refers to an opposite in the world of dualities which creates a “0” (so to speak) - as if I said, “the complementary opposite of -5 is +5,” and therefore we have “0.”
A “complementary” opposite is one that leaves no trace of either. It compliments one part of a duality so exactly that there is no longer either pole.
Now to answer the question “what is the complementary opposite of equanimity?” My response is, “Grasping" or "Attachment." Let me elaborate.
Equanimity is a “letting go” of preference, judgment, or we might say “letting go of the attachment to” these attitudes.
Grasping (or Aversion) refers to the action that comprises the attachment to these attitudes. Both letting go and grasping, or equanimity and attachment, are relationships not specific entities or things. They all require an object in order to refer to a specific thing.
Thus, if we suggest that a person is attached to “X” (or some particular result), that attachment will be eliminated by acquiring a posture of equanimity, or a releasing of our attachment to that particular “X.” It’s not as though the person will let go of “X” and then have something called “not-X” - “X” is merely negated. Our language makes it seem reasonable to say “the more equanimity we have, the less attachment we will suffer from,” but that is misleading.
Equanimity is not a thing that can be added or subtracted as apples in a basket. Equanimity is the relationship of having let go, or having dropped (a [-] minus) the object of attachment (a [+] positive) to which one clings. It correlates to the letting go of, or releasing, the dissecting process of dualism and thereby nullifying that duality.
Perhaps it would be helpful to see equanimity as an act of dropping (-) that object someone has grasped onto, and therein has become attached (+) to. For instance, if a person is standing in the yard empty-handed (0) and someone throws a ball and the person catches (grasps onto) it, the ball has been added (+). If the person subsequently drops the ball (-) however, he returns to the original state (0). The process of dropping (equanimity) refers to the act of “letting go of.”
Another picture with the same general analogy; a boy stands in the yard and his friend throws five apples to him. That would be 5 apples added to his person. He can maintain a posture whereby these five apples are attached to his person or he may choose to get rid of them. It will be a complementary opposite of the acquisition of these 5 apples, if he chooses to drop or throw the 5 apples away. On the other hand if he decides to take one apple home with him, he will remain attached (+) to one apple and the action is no longer complementary.
Perhaps what I’m suggesting has to be imagined metaphorically. If so, I hope the situation described as follows will be helpful.
We’re driving along a country road and we see the carcass of a newly killed fawn laying in the weeds next the road. We have some sort of emotional reaction. Let’s say we feel sad or perhaps angry with God or in some other way, we suffer as a result of what we see. This would be a negative reaction and noted above as an attachment or grasping (+), which arises out of our learning or experiences, having to do with baby deer or animals in general. Our history then becomes the condition for the arising of our suffering, in this case negative thoughts/feelings. We might even imagine acts of terrorism against the driver who ran it over.
In terms of my + and – discussion above, the negative emotional reaction, or thinking, is a +, or an addition to the simple registering of data. There is instead, the forming of a judgment or preference beyond, or more (+) than, just an observation.
However if we realize that the fawn’s death is just a natural part of the cycle of life and death, and that the carcass will decompose and become the food for, or condition, assisting many other arising forms in our world; the grass, flowers, food for scavenging birds and other animals, etc., our posture changes. At some point in this process, perhaps our teaching on Dependent-Arising comes back to us and we reach that moment where suffering disappears (-). Letting go arises and an acceptance is achieved which might be called “equanimity in the face of what is.”
Leading a life of equanimity is not a matter of going from anger to happiness, where the emotional pendulum swings in the opposite direction past zero. Nor is it about becoming an unfeeling automaton.
Equanimity is a posture wherein we are able to be with “what is” without attaching to either pole of a duality; pleasant/unpleasant or happy/sad etc. And it is a goal to aspire to - not a place where we can expect to arrive and set up housekeeping forever. When the preference (emotion, or attitude, etc.) is let go of, we will experience the balance or acceptance of what is (as-it-is). Equanimity arises as an attitude or relationship to our humanity without becoming attached to its extremes, and in this example, balances suffering and non-suffering in the Buddhist sense.
October 14, 2009
One Coin - Two Faces
Several years into my meditation practice, I found myself having to adapt to new partner at work. A friendly fellow to be sure and an undeniably good worker, but as far as personalities go we couldn’t have been more different. Suffice it to say, a major flaw in my character continually had its button pushed. Historically my favorite epithet in these circumstances was a seven letter expletive for a body aperture. And in the past, once I sunk my cogitating teeth into the soft flesh of his various ineptitudes, I would find myself in a whirlpool of complaints that would draw me ever deeper into a mire of irascibility. In no time at all, I would find myself unable to accept anything he said or did and I would be nailed to the cross of my own judgments. It’s exhausting now….just thinking about it.
However, as a result of meditation and the study of Zen concepts, and Buddhist teachings, I began to see improvement, not in others, but in myself. More and more I began to recognize when I was being judgmental or sarcastic earlier in the process, and today I find that I am often able to counter these learned reactions before I begin to act on them. There are even times when I realize that I’ve just experienced the perfect trigger for one of these old behaviors or attitudes. For me it was usually judgmental patterns of thinking. But, over time, I started to notice the habitual urge to go there, without so much as a behavioral twitch in their direction.
I can’t say exactly how this has happened - there is nothing I can point to directly and say, “There it is! The reason I have changed is….” However, I can trace the path of this change from the beginning of my study and mindfulness meditation, and it continues to this day. In my life there are no other factors which I can point to, in order to explain this metamorphosis. I opened my mind and my heart through study and I sat in silent meditation.
When I look at the process today it’s clear. Without reading and a desire for the willingness to be open; to come to a meaningful understanding of those originally elusive terms like Emptiness and Impermanence; without struggling to understand the commentaries of many teachers; I would not have had a foundation upon which to bring forth my original posture toward the world. My practice is the currency, a metaphoric coin perhaps, by which I renew my dedication to improving a posture of equanimity in my life. Study and meditation represent the two faces of that coin.
However, as a result of meditation and the study of Zen concepts, and Buddhist teachings, I began to see improvement, not in others, but in myself. More and more I began to recognize when I was being judgmental or sarcastic earlier in the process, and today I find that I am often able to counter these learned reactions before I begin to act on them. There are even times when I realize that I’ve just experienced the perfect trigger for one of these old behaviors or attitudes. For me it was usually judgmental patterns of thinking. But, over time, I started to notice the habitual urge to go there, without so much as a behavioral twitch in their direction.
I can’t say exactly how this has happened - there is nothing I can point to directly and say, “There it is! The reason I have changed is….” However, I can trace the path of this change from the beginning of my study and mindfulness meditation, and it continues to this day. In my life there are no other factors which I can point to, in order to explain this metamorphosis. I opened my mind and my heart through study and I sat in silent meditation.
When I look at the process today it’s clear. Without reading and a desire for the willingness to be open; to come to a meaningful understanding of those originally elusive terms like Emptiness and Impermanence; without struggling to understand the commentaries of many teachers; I would not have had a foundation upon which to bring forth my original posture toward the world. My practice is the currency, a metaphoric coin perhaps, by which I renew my dedication to improving a posture of equanimity in my life. Study and meditation represent the two faces of that coin.
October 8, 2009
The Middle Way
"The middle way avoids extremes, and threads its way between the opposites so lightly and so reasonably that no act is followed by reaction, and hence there is no need for a Self to suffer the consequences of the act. The perfect act has no result." – Christmas Humphreys, Karma & Rebirth, ISBN (US) 0 8356 0306 7
The way I understand this, the way it makes personal sense to me, is that "extremes" are the result of our living from an ego-center in which we read life in terms of our dualistic apprehension of likes/dislikes, right/wrong, and good/bad etc. This means our choices and actions are ego-driven and are not the result of a posture of equanimity. As a result, there are always consequences arising out of the opposite pole no matter which one we choose. Like a constant burr under one's saddle one might say.
On the other hand the "middle way" finds us acting only in response to what the universe presents us in each moment; the burr is removed. Following the middle way allows for actions that are so in line with "what is" that they yield no re-action to them. And this is the notion of "no result" as I interpret this statement.
So, this is why it is important for me to struggle to attain an equanimous posture in life. It leaves no footprint in the sand. Action responding to "what is" versus ego-preference creates no disturbance. With no disturbance in the flow of life, no action is detectable. I am "one with the flow."
A worthy intention shrouded in human difficulty.
The way I understand this, the way it makes personal sense to me, is that "extremes" are the result of our living from an ego-center in which we read life in terms of our dualistic apprehension of likes/dislikes, right/wrong, and good/bad etc. This means our choices and actions are ego-driven and are not the result of a posture of equanimity. As a result, there are always consequences arising out of the opposite pole no matter which one we choose. Like a constant burr under one's saddle one might say.
On the other hand the "middle way" finds us acting only in response to what the universe presents us in each moment; the burr is removed. Following the middle way allows for actions that are so in line with "what is" that they yield no re-action to them. And this is the notion of "no result" as I interpret this statement.
So, this is why it is important for me to struggle to attain an equanimous posture in life. It leaves no footprint in the sand. Action responding to "what is" versus ego-preference creates no disturbance. With no disturbance in the flow of life, no action is detectable. I am "one with the flow."
A worthy intention shrouded in human difficulty.
October 7, 2009
Self or real-Self
During what I suspect has been my fourth reading of Sekkei Harada’s book The Essence of Zen, I came to realize how to overcome the trouble I was having in understanding the difference between the “self” and “real-Self” in Zen literature. Key to this new insight was an expanded understanding of the term Dharma. One use of the term Dharma is reality as-it-is. This is the essence of Zen; the Dharma, the Way - and it is everywhere at any time.
Let's start in this moment. The present moment as-it-is, denotes a condition where there is no separation between yourself and “other.” No judgments; no better than, or worse than. One of the main purposes for my meditation practice is to bring an end to the “seeking mind” and to live accepting the present moment, just as-it-is.
Dropping the ego-self, immersing one’s attention wholeheartedly in the work of this moment, and making an effort to let go of attachment to preferences is the practice of Zen. When the ego-self intervenes, it inserts opinions, interpretations, judgments, and preferences. It requires that you see “this” by comparison to “that.” This is not seeing things as-they-are.
By the term ego-self, I am referring the process whereby each person relates to the world from the standpoint of “I” and “other.” We experience life dualistically. There’s a deeply imbedded sense of “me,” which is juxtaposed to, and separate from, “you” and all “other”.
In expressing proof of its existence, the human organism perceives or experiences the sense of a self (ego or “me”) and proclaims that since “I” can see, and hear, and feel, and think – an “I” therefore exists. We accept this as an argument for there being a permanent entity: the “self.” My world of perception and cognition however, arises out of, and is expressed in, the notion of ego-self. The ego-self is the sum, or result, of the functions of the aggregate of the mind/body. This aggregate of processes is in continual flux and therefore impermanent.
To say that things are Impermanent, is to say that there is no condition that is fixed or determined for any length of time, just as the term No-self speaks to the fact that there is no permanent, single entity that corresponds to a “self.” All things come into existence through conditions and they disappear because of conditions. Results unavoidably issue forth from causes; that’s the way it is.
All conditions are contingent upon the presence, or absence, of causes. Seeking is a condition for the arising of clinging, just as desire is a condition for the arising of disappointment. And desire is contingent upon labeling something as necessary or pleasurable. This is the Dharma; the way-it-is for us as human beings in this material world of form. And the idea of a “self” is the result of the conditions that have arisen out of the nature of human existence, also referred to as skandhas, or the Aggregates of Attachment, in Buddhist cosmology.
So if you are like me, and you are finally able to wrap your mind around it all up to this point, you will likely experience some consternation when you read in the literature about something called the real-Self (or sometimes referred to as the true-Self). It seems to fly in the face of what you have struggled so hard to understand thus far. What follows is how I have escaped the grasp of my confusion.
I came to recognize the term Dharma to be representing existence. Cosmic life “as-it-is” (often referred to as the “One” or Oneness). In other words, "what is" before our dualistic mind categorically apprehends and then processes those aspects of Oneness which it is able to register. Only then was I able to slowly allow myself to soften around a new understanding. Two seemingy juxtaposed ideas, yet recognized as one idea from two perspectives; No-self and real-Self.
The “real-Self” is the Dharma. This is an existential fact embodied in “the way it is” - “isness” – the essence of all things constantly cycling through eternal change. In this case each passing moment - time - is simply the arising of new causes and conditions. However, the key or operative idea here is change. We are not composed of a concrete entity called “me” going through a process of change. We are change; change is what we are. And our real-Self, is that eternal changing; the Dharma. In other words, we are this changing as it represents itself to our senses at any given instant….and then it (we) change, over and over and over. Our senses cannot process this Dharma. We are not constructed in such a way as to be able to process this truth of each moment. Sentience is our sentence.
Life is the continual flux or flow of arising conditions (or causes depending upon what term you are most comfortable with). Dharma is the term I'm using to represent this flow of life, including the human organism, as it is happening, or unfolding. Therefore, I offer the term Dharma as a representation of the real-Self as opposed to the ego-self that I colloquially identify as “me.”
The “real-Self” is this unfolding. It’s not a discreet entity that has longevity amid an otherwise changing world. It is the change itself and is essentially all things; the Dharma, the Way, and even that misunderstood notion of a separate, abiding self to which we are so attached.
Our real-Self can be undestood as part of the “Oneness” which cannot be named or perceived because it is empty of divisions or separation into parts that the human mind requires for understanding. This Unity or Oneness is an undifferentiated whole-ness out of which our mind identifies limited parameters of sensory experience.
What we refer to as discreet entities (named things) are actually contingencies: processes of change through the arising of causes, or aggregates of causes (called conditions), acting upon other conditions.
It is not possible for any single thing to exist on its own, or by itself alone. In our universe of forms, Emptiness refers to an emptiness of discreet units that correspond to the object named, as well as the illusion of the divisions my mind constructs in order to perceive what is referred to as “me.”
Even in our world of material forms, if I think something is true or real, it means I have added a characteristic (say, reality or truth) to the object or thing perceived. Perception offers only “is-ness,” so there remains a gap between that thing, as-it-is, and that which constitutes the name I have given it as in “real” or “true.”
My mind has deconstructed the wholeness –that thing as-it-is - into parts or discreet dualistic units; the “real” or “true” juxtaposed with the unreal or false. In order for there to be a reality, or a truth, there must be a non-reality or untruth; a dualistic “other.” Such is the fact of life in the world of ten-thousand things.
On the other hand, the life of one who has realized the true-Self, is one in which dualities are noted but not clung to as ultimate truth. In other words, this manner of being in the world is to dwell peacefully in this moment…now.
Practically speaking, whether one does something for another, or for oneself, the life of Zen is to forget all that comes before and after, and really do each deed for the purpose of the deed itself: here, now. This is to be your “real-Self.”
Namaste
Let's start in this moment. The present moment as-it-is, denotes a condition where there is no separation between yourself and “other.” No judgments; no better than, or worse than. One of the main purposes for my meditation practice is to bring an end to the “seeking mind” and to live accepting the present moment, just as-it-is.
Dropping the ego-self, immersing one’s attention wholeheartedly in the work of this moment, and making an effort to let go of attachment to preferences is the practice of Zen. When the ego-self intervenes, it inserts opinions, interpretations, judgments, and preferences. It requires that you see “this” by comparison to “that.” This is not seeing things as-they-are.
By the term ego-self, I am referring the process whereby each person relates to the world from the standpoint of “I” and “other.” We experience life dualistically. There’s a deeply imbedded sense of “me,” which is juxtaposed to, and separate from, “you” and all “other”.
In expressing proof of its existence, the human organism perceives or experiences the sense of a self (ego or “me”) and proclaims that since “I” can see, and hear, and feel, and think – an “I” therefore exists. We accept this as an argument for there being a permanent entity: the “self.” My world of perception and cognition however, arises out of, and is expressed in, the notion of ego-self. The ego-self is the sum, or result, of the functions of the aggregate of the mind/body. This aggregate of processes is in continual flux and therefore impermanent.
To say that things are Impermanent, is to say that there is no condition that is fixed or determined for any length of time, just as the term No-self speaks to the fact that there is no permanent, single entity that corresponds to a “self.” All things come into existence through conditions and they disappear because of conditions. Results unavoidably issue forth from causes; that’s the way it is.
All conditions are contingent upon the presence, or absence, of causes. Seeking is a condition for the arising of clinging, just as desire is a condition for the arising of disappointment. And desire is contingent upon labeling something as necessary or pleasurable. This is the Dharma; the way-it-is for us as human beings in this material world of form. And the idea of a “self” is the result of the conditions that have arisen out of the nature of human existence, also referred to as skandhas, or the Aggregates of Attachment, in Buddhist cosmology.
So if you are like me, and you are finally able to wrap your mind around it all up to this point, you will likely experience some consternation when you read in the literature about something called the real-Self (or sometimes referred to as the true-Self). It seems to fly in the face of what you have struggled so hard to understand thus far. What follows is how I have escaped the grasp of my confusion.
I came to recognize the term Dharma to be representing existence. Cosmic life “as-it-is” (often referred to as the “One” or Oneness). In other words, "what is" before our dualistic mind categorically apprehends and then processes those aspects of Oneness which it is able to register. Only then was I able to slowly allow myself to soften around a new understanding. Two seemingy juxtaposed ideas, yet recognized as one idea from two perspectives; No-self and real-Self.
The “real-Self” is the Dharma. This is an existential fact embodied in “the way it is” - “isness” – the essence of all things constantly cycling through eternal change. In this case each passing moment - time - is simply the arising of new causes and conditions. However, the key or operative idea here is change. We are not composed of a concrete entity called “me” going through a process of change. We are change; change is what we are. And our real-Self, is that eternal changing; the Dharma. In other words, we are this changing as it represents itself to our senses at any given instant….and then it (we) change, over and over and over. Our senses cannot process this Dharma. We are not constructed in such a way as to be able to process this truth of each moment. Sentience is our sentence.
Life is the continual flux or flow of arising conditions (or causes depending upon what term you are most comfortable with). Dharma is the term I'm using to represent this flow of life, including the human organism, as it is happening, or unfolding. Therefore, I offer the term Dharma as a representation of the real-Self as opposed to the ego-self that I colloquially identify as “me.”
The “real-Self” is this unfolding. It’s not a discreet entity that has longevity amid an otherwise changing world. It is the change itself and is essentially all things; the Dharma, the Way, and even that misunderstood notion of a separate, abiding self to which we are so attached.
Our real-Self can be undestood as part of the “Oneness” which cannot be named or perceived because it is empty of divisions or separation into parts that the human mind requires for understanding. This Unity or Oneness is an undifferentiated whole-ness out of which our mind identifies limited parameters of sensory experience.
What we refer to as discreet entities (named things) are actually contingencies: processes of change through the arising of causes, or aggregates of causes (called conditions), acting upon other conditions.
It is not possible for any single thing to exist on its own, or by itself alone. In our universe of forms, Emptiness refers to an emptiness of discreet units that correspond to the object named, as well as the illusion of the divisions my mind constructs in order to perceive what is referred to as “me.”
Even in our world of material forms, if I think something is true or real, it means I have added a characteristic (say, reality or truth) to the object or thing perceived. Perception offers only “is-ness,” so there remains a gap between that thing, as-it-is, and that which constitutes the name I have given it as in “real” or “true.”
My mind has deconstructed the wholeness –that thing as-it-is - into parts or discreet dualistic units; the “real” or “true” juxtaposed with the unreal or false. In order for there to be a reality, or a truth, there must be a non-reality or untruth; a dualistic “other.” Such is the fact of life in the world of ten-thousand things.
On the other hand, the life of one who has realized the true-Self, is one in which dualities are noted but not clung to as ultimate truth. In other words, this manner of being in the world is to dwell peacefully in this moment…now.
Practically speaking, whether one does something for another, or for oneself, the life of Zen is to forget all that comes before and after, and really do each deed for the purpose of the deed itself: here, now. This is to be your “real-Self.”
Namaste
October 3, 2009
Why Mindful Awareness?
For me, the wonder of meditation is that it is not an intellectual process, nor is it about ‘white knuckle’ attempts at behavior modification. It is about the change which can arise out of a mindful awareness. Today I meditate in order to accept the pain, frustration, and anxiety of everyday living; to better function as a healthy, helpful human being.
Initially it was an attempt to stop incessant fantasies associated with extreme anger in order to avoid the heart attack or stroke which I feared was inevitable. Over time however, I have come to believe in the transformative power of Zazen. Not from reading a book or sacred text, or listening to a teacher. Rather it was from actually doing Zazen, sometimes referred to as Insight or Mindfulness Meditation, that I was able to experience subtle, unexplained changes in my attitudes which led me to have faith in the process.
The reading and listening to teachers that I cautioned against a moment ago are also valuable tools however. They constitute resources for an understanding of the particular path I choose in life. They offer guidance in my daily affairs like the proverbial carrot dangled just ahead of the plow horse. And like that old horse I need to have my general course plotted: who do I wish to be? How do want to act…to live my life? However these ideas are tools for the world of action and form. It is in the process of meditation that they become connected to my life at a deeper, unspoken level. Meditation is the yeast that allows the desired change to rise, and to fill my life with a calm abiding.
The process is quite simple in theory but less so in execution. I often hear people say, “If I’m not supposed to think while I’m sitting I can’t solve any problems, so why meditate – what’s the purpose of this kind of meditation?”
We all have reasons that bring us to meditation in the first place. I have told you what brought me to this practice initially. There is nothing wrong with this or any other goal one might have for beginning a meditation practice. But the actual process of “sitting” requires that we let go of this initial reason once the actual practice begins. We must release ourselves from reasons, goals, hopes, dreams, and all intellectualizations if we wish to learn to have mindfulness in daily living……and more.
The idea is to learn to be present with what is; to open oneself to the present moment as it presents itself; to experience being fully engaged in the “now moment” without judgment, analysis, or preference. Attempting to meet a purpose during our meditation is a block to achieving this kind of openness. It masks our ability to be receptive to what the present moment offers us. When we get carried away by thoughts, emotions, or fantasy scenarios they divert, or separate us from what the present moment offers.
To have a judgment about, or a preference for or against, whatever is happening in this moment creates an emotional posture which becomes, over time, a habitual attitude toward things, people, or situations that arise in daily living. These postures symbiotically glue us to the fears, obsessions, anger and depression that make this life a ‘suffering affair’. They cut us off from any hope of achieving the equanimity and compassion which is the cornerstone of becoming that healthy, helpful human being to which I aspire.
From the many variations, I have chosen Awareness Meditation because it requires me to practice being present without judgment, comparison, or naming; without focusing on a discrimination in terms good and bad, or right and wrong. Through practicing this method of being present to the moment, I am able to slowly transpose equanimity and compassion from the cushion into my everyday affairs.
If you are not interested in an Awareness of the way things are versus the way you would like them to be, then this style of meditation is not for you. If you are looking for answers that are neatly contained within the philosophical perspective you already hold, some other meditative process will better fit your needs. Awareness meditation is not for those who are interested in simply reinforcing their “truth”; it is for those who want to free their vision of themselves and the world, so as to see it ‘as it is’.
Initially it was an attempt to stop incessant fantasies associated with extreme anger in order to avoid the heart attack or stroke which I feared was inevitable. Over time however, I have come to believe in the transformative power of Zazen. Not from reading a book or sacred text, or listening to a teacher. Rather it was from actually doing Zazen, sometimes referred to as Insight or Mindfulness Meditation, that I was able to experience subtle, unexplained changes in my attitudes which led me to have faith in the process.
The reading and listening to teachers that I cautioned against a moment ago are also valuable tools however. They constitute resources for an understanding of the particular path I choose in life. They offer guidance in my daily affairs like the proverbial carrot dangled just ahead of the plow horse. And like that old horse I need to have my general course plotted: who do I wish to be? How do want to act…to live my life? However these ideas are tools for the world of action and form. It is in the process of meditation that they become connected to my life at a deeper, unspoken level. Meditation is the yeast that allows the desired change to rise, and to fill my life with a calm abiding.
The process is quite simple in theory but less so in execution. I often hear people say, “If I’m not supposed to think while I’m sitting I can’t solve any problems, so why meditate – what’s the purpose of this kind of meditation?”
We all have reasons that bring us to meditation in the first place. I have told you what brought me to this practice initially. There is nothing wrong with this or any other goal one might have for beginning a meditation practice. But the actual process of “sitting” requires that we let go of this initial reason once the actual practice begins. We must release ourselves from reasons, goals, hopes, dreams, and all intellectualizations if we wish to learn to have mindfulness in daily living……and more.
The idea is to learn to be present with what is; to open oneself to the present moment as it presents itself; to experience being fully engaged in the “now moment” without judgment, analysis, or preference. Attempting to meet a purpose during our meditation is a block to achieving this kind of openness. It masks our ability to be receptive to what the present moment offers us. When we get carried away by thoughts, emotions, or fantasy scenarios they divert, or separate us from what the present moment offers.
To have a judgment about, or a preference for or against, whatever is happening in this moment creates an emotional posture which becomes, over time, a habitual attitude toward things, people, or situations that arise in daily living. These postures symbiotically glue us to the fears, obsessions, anger and depression that make this life a ‘suffering affair’. They cut us off from any hope of achieving the equanimity and compassion which is the cornerstone of becoming that healthy, helpful human being to which I aspire.
From the many variations, I have chosen Awareness Meditation because it requires me to practice being present without judgment, comparison, or naming; without focusing on a discrimination in terms good and bad, or right and wrong. Through practicing this method of being present to the moment, I am able to slowly transpose equanimity and compassion from the cushion into my everyday affairs.
If you are not interested in an Awareness of the way things are versus the way you would like them to be, then this style of meditation is not for you. If you are looking for answers that are neatly contained within the philosophical perspective you already hold, some other meditative process will better fit your needs. Awareness meditation is not for those who are interested in simply reinforcing their “truth”; it is for those who want to free their vision of themselves and the world, so as to see it ‘as it is’.
September 30, 2009
What's "Right" on the Eightfold Path?
The story of the Buddha’s teaching begins when he became aware of the suffering associated with birth, old age, sickness, and death. This awareness was the condition that led to the arising of his search - his quest, to understand, and ultimately transcend this uniquely human form of suffering.
After exploring many options open to him he found what is now regarded as the Buddhist Truth about human existence and our inherent suffering. What arose out of his search was the Buddha’s identification of the cause of our suffering, a realization as to a solution for this malady, and an eight-fold path by which we might attain release from our grasping nature.
This is the process from which all Buddhist commentary arose. These facts however, first needed to be illuminated by the Buddha so as to point us toward the way out of our ignorance regarding the actual nature of our existence. The main factor that needed to be overcome first was this Ignorance of the nature of human experience. We first needed to see, just as the Buddha did, that we are initially ignorant of some simple facts or truths about our existence. History tells us that the catalyst that began his search was seeing the suffering outside the walls of his father’s castle grounds, and can be seen is a metaphor for the illusions we operate under as a result of our ignorance of four facts.
The first is that all things arise under specific conditions or dependent arising. Second, this first realization points to the fact that all things are temporary, or impermanent. And this leads us to the third insight describing the nature of our universe of forms; emptiness. Emptiness is the logical consequence of a universe wherein the arising of each and every thing is dependent upon a condition, or aggregate of conditions, necessary for it to arise. And the fourth fact, which is so difficult for us to embrace, is that we too are without a separate, unique, and abiding self - better known as no-self. These are the pillars of understanding that constituted the Buddha’s enlightened awareness of the human condition.
What often seems to occur 2600 years after the unearthing of interesting facts or enlightened experiences, is a plethora of commentaries arise about the true nature of the process. And we soon forget to consider the process itself. It is my view that when we imagine that the term “Right,” as it is used in the Eightfold Path, refers to a cosmically correct choice in all situations, we have lead ourselves into a cul-de-sac of our own thinking.
In the interest of clarity I believe we have to look at how or perhaps why, the term Right refers to the culmination of the Buddha’s search. If I tell you that I have found a cure for cancer and then tell you exactly how to go about replicating that cure by saying that the Right procedure is to do “X,” I’m guessing you would have little trouble understanding that the term “right” is meant to describe the relationship between the cancer and the foundation or steps I took to achieve the intended result.
In this situation most would recognize the meaning of Right to be synonymous with “this is what works” or it is an “appropriate act leading to where I intend to go.” When looking at a map, we have no difficulty seeing what the shortest route is from Cleveland to New York. And if we were in need of getting there as soon as possible, that it would be the Right route to take. In addition we would understand that it is not the right route to take in order to get to Minneapolis. The term Right in these cases is specific to our destination.
It seems odd then, that we have so much difficulty recognizing that Right Speech, for example, points us to the speech that will specifically lead us to the very same enlightened moment experienced by the Buddha. And furthermore, that this was precipitated by his coming to see clearly the truth of Dependent-Arising, Impermanence, Emptiness, and No-self. Clear apprehension of these pillars of his enlightenment is the foundation of the path he suggested in order to reach the goal.
In order to get to the goal there are certain correct (Right) postures, attitudes, or understandings that must be acquired in order to successfully complete the journey to Enlightenment according to the Buddhist ontology. And what makes them “right” is that our thoughts and actions are based upon the correct view of Dependent-Arising, Impermanence, Emptiness, and No-self - not on the word of Buddha. Hold the correct view of the four foundations of his enlightenment, apply them in your life, and (at least in theory) you will achieve what he achieved.
After exploring many options open to him he found what is now regarded as the Buddhist Truth about human existence and our inherent suffering. What arose out of his search was the Buddha’s identification of the cause of our suffering, a realization as to a solution for this malady, and an eight-fold path by which we might attain release from our grasping nature.
This is the process from which all Buddhist commentary arose. These facts however, first needed to be illuminated by the Buddha so as to point us toward the way out of our ignorance regarding the actual nature of our existence. The main factor that needed to be overcome first was this Ignorance of the nature of human experience. We first needed to see, just as the Buddha did, that we are initially ignorant of some simple facts or truths about our existence. History tells us that the catalyst that began his search was seeing the suffering outside the walls of his father’s castle grounds, and can be seen is a metaphor for the illusions we operate under as a result of our ignorance of four facts.
The first is that all things arise under specific conditions or dependent arising. Second, this first realization points to the fact that all things are temporary, or impermanent. And this leads us to the third insight describing the nature of our universe of forms; emptiness. Emptiness is the logical consequence of a universe wherein the arising of each and every thing is dependent upon a condition, or aggregate of conditions, necessary for it to arise. And the fourth fact, which is so difficult for us to embrace, is that we too are without a separate, unique, and abiding self - better known as no-self. These are the pillars of understanding that constituted the Buddha’s enlightened awareness of the human condition.
What often seems to occur 2600 years after the unearthing of interesting facts or enlightened experiences, is a plethora of commentaries arise about the true nature of the process. And we soon forget to consider the process itself. It is my view that when we imagine that the term “Right,” as it is used in the Eightfold Path, refers to a cosmically correct choice in all situations, we have lead ourselves into a cul-de-sac of our own thinking.
In the interest of clarity I believe we have to look at how or perhaps why, the term Right refers to the culmination of the Buddha’s search. If I tell you that I have found a cure for cancer and then tell you exactly how to go about replicating that cure by saying that the Right procedure is to do “X,” I’m guessing you would have little trouble understanding that the term “right” is meant to describe the relationship between the cancer and the foundation or steps I took to achieve the intended result.
In this situation most would recognize the meaning of Right to be synonymous with “this is what works” or it is an “appropriate act leading to where I intend to go.” When looking at a map, we have no difficulty seeing what the shortest route is from Cleveland to New York. And if we were in need of getting there as soon as possible, that it would be the Right route to take. In addition we would understand that it is not the right route to take in order to get to Minneapolis. The term Right in these cases is specific to our destination.
It seems odd then, that we have so much difficulty recognizing that Right Speech, for example, points us to the speech that will specifically lead us to the very same enlightened moment experienced by the Buddha. And furthermore, that this was precipitated by his coming to see clearly the truth of Dependent-Arising, Impermanence, Emptiness, and No-self. Clear apprehension of these pillars of his enlightenment is the foundation of the path he suggested in order to reach the goal.
In order to get to the goal there are certain correct (Right) postures, attitudes, or understandings that must be acquired in order to successfully complete the journey to Enlightenment according to the Buddhist ontology. And what makes them “right” is that our thoughts and actions are based upon the correct view of Dependent-Arising, Impermanence, Emptiness, and No-self - not on the word of Buddha. Hold the correct view of the four foundations of his enlightenment, apply them in your life, and (at least in theory) you will achieve what he achieved.
Dependent-Arising
All things in the universe arise out of the confluence between conditions. We are used to speaking about such things as cause and effect but when we are dealing with the ongoing flow of existence this way of understanding the connection of all things in our universe lacks the precision required for deep understanding.
By working to understand this process, one is able to move in the directions of understanding and accepting the reason for, and manner of, all our human relations. Let’s start with some obvious examples of Dependent Arising.
Suppose we start with the conditions of sunny sky and 70 degree temperature. This is a condition we are using here but we must remember that these conditions were themselves created through other conditions within the realm of all kinds of conditions that create any and all types of weather.
These weather conditions are dependent upon others within the same type. And at the same time the ground for the arising of my desire to spend time outdoors, or sit in the sun, work on my tan, just to note a few. Suppose I choose to sit in the sun and read my book? THE CONDITION OF ME SITTING IN THE SUN READING MY BOOK CAN BE THE CONDTION FOR any number of other arising desires or outcomes not related to any desires. For instance, it can be the condition for my reading a passage which speaks directly to a problem I’ve been struggling with and this condition is one that is then the foundation, or condition, necessary for an action that positively affects my communication with my daughter.
While the weather has been instrumental in this particular case for a choice that improves communication it might also be the foundation for the destruction of enough skin cells after sitting too long in the sun, which is the condition or cause for suffering from sunburn. This might furthermore be the condition that is required for the formation of skin cancer on the top of my bald head.
If we understand that this process is fundamental to all that constitutes our world, we will be a long way toward being able to “let go” of judgments, and the personalization of what are, in truth, dependently-arising phenomena that constitute our lives. It takes a willingness to continually explore the relationship between arising conditions to be able to see immediately the mutually-arising-dependent-conditions that are the basis of what we erroneously consider unconnected events, emotions, thoughts, and experiences.
2-3-09
By working to understand this process, one is able to move in the directions of understanding and accepting the reason for, and manner of, all our human relations. Let’s start with some obvious examples of Dependent Arising.
Suppose we start with the conditions of sunny sky and 70 degree temperature. This is a condition we are using here but we must remember that these conditions were themselves created through other conditions within the realm of all kinds of conditions that create any and all types of weather.
These weather conditions are dependent upon others within the same type. And at the same time the ground for the arising of my desire to spend time outdoors, or sit in the sun, work on my tan, just to note a few. Suppose I choose to sit in the sun and read my book? THE CONDITION OF ME SITTING IN THE SUN READING MY BOOK CAN BE THE CONDTION FOR any number of other arising desires or outcomes not related to any desires. For instance, it can be the condition for my reading a passage which speaks directly to a problem I’ve been struggling with and this condition is one that is then the foundation, or condition, necessary for an action that positively affects my communication with my daughter.
While the weather has been instrumental in this particular case for a choice that improves communication it might also be the foundation for the destruction of enough skin cells after sitting too long in the sun, which is the condition or cause for suffering from sunburn. This might furthermore be the condition that is required for the formation of skin cancer on the top of my bald head.
If we understand that this process is fundamental to all that constitutes our world, we will be a long way toward being able to “let go” of judgments, and the personalization of what are, in truth, dependently-arising phenomena that constitute our lives. It takes a willingness to continually explore the relationship between arising conditions to be able to see immediately the mutually-arising-dependent-conditions that are the basis of what we erroneously consider unconnected events, emotions, thoughts, and experiences.
2-3-09
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