The Hermetic Writings

We are the neediest kids ever.

When this class began, it made me start thinking on levels I'd never reached before. I can honestly say this class has permanently changed me, and I can only begin to ponder if it's a good thing or not. I think about the vastness of time, space, and religion on a regular basis, and have come up with several of my own ideas. I'm even considering writing some of my ideas into a way of living. I've been doing so much work in the concept of the right way to live, and it's caused me to have some very new ideas. Well, new to me, at least.

All this said, I am so tired of reading what people have to say about God. We have no idea what the hell he wants from us. The best we have are books written in a time before we fully understood the concept of hallucinogenics. I don't want to discredit all religion, but frankly, I kinda need to discredit all religions. I am not disputing that many wonderful things have happened that cannot be explained. I'm not arguing that the powerful religious figures in our past didn't exist. All I'm saying is that we have no definite proof of anything.

This is so hard to write. I feel like a real ass, just spouting off about things I don't fully understand, but it's relevant, I guess, because my problem is with people talking about things they don't understand. We've read so many different passages about concepts of God and his teachings, and most of them were based on introspective meditation. I don't think I can believe we can learn about the reason we even exist at all by thinking hard about it. I don't think we can ever understand God. Ever. Even in death. Something that has so much power wouldn't bother with us. It doesn't make sense, which is really what this is all about. We can never know what God is, no matter how connected we feel with him. This isn't to tear down religion, but to connect something so. Vastly. Powerful. seems impossible.

Oh, and prayer never made sense to me either. If he's all powerful, he already knows. If he's not, how can he possibly help all of us?

Have a great weekend.

Plato

“I broke into your house last night, and left a note at your bedside.”
-Spitting Games by Snow Patrol

“I've been walking erect since the moment we met.”
-Shiksa (Girlfriend) by Say Anything

“Dim my eyes if they should compromise our fulcrum what you need divides me then I might as well be gone.”
-Jambi by Tool

Love is, as far as I can tell, in the eyes of the beholder. Who can define love? Love is... horrible. It can ruin people's lives. People kill and get killed because of love. We wake up in tears, screaming at the ceiling and clawing at our beds because of love. We die, because we know it's impossible to wake up without it. Love is calming. Love is holding hands and knowing she's never going to run away. It's holding one another with under a darkening sky as the lake continues to ripple. As we wake up, it's the smile knowing they're waking up next to you. Love is nervous. Love is shaking at the school dance. Love is erasing the second line of the poem over and over again. Love is growing roses because buying them isn't good enough. Love is learning her name, and love is whispering it to her. Love cannot be rationally explained. Love can save the planet, and love can tear the city down around the lovers.

Now, I understand that Plato is a universally accepted intelligent person. Mostly everyone can at least say with confidence that he was a smart Greek. That is something in and of itself, to survive for so long with that simple idea. I am not going to say that he isn't exactly what he is known to be: one of the most quoted and most acknowledged thinkers of this planet. That said, I think he's very wrong about love. Love is not universal. Love is not the same for anyone, let alone everyone. I don't think I've experienced love, but what little I have experienced scratching at the great maw of life is more than what he described. I don't believe love is some great understanding that comes akin to an enlightenment. It's the most wonderful brutality that people can experience, and it must be experienced kicking and screaming. All love has its trials, which make it all the better.

I hate to be the cynic, but it's so much more romantic to think of the desperation that love can bring rather than penning it off to proper meditation. I'd rather be broken by it any day over realizing it through proper study.

Jumping Feet First To Land Running

It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done.

-A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens


I wake every morning in the same bed I’ve slept in for over four years. Tomorrow, there are good odds I will wake up there again. There are good odds I’ll wake up in it a year from now. I take showers in the same shower, dry with the same towel, and put on mostly the same clothes. Clothes are one of the few things that change with time, and even then it happens in phases. I leave my house and greet my same friends. I can go days without seeing them, for we are a family all our own, but we do always end up seeing each other. I do meet new people, but it’s rarely the same: I doubt I’ll ever find friends I will bond with like these now, even though the gaping maw of my future path is open wide and grinning. I meet women, but even then it becomes the same routine over time. The easiest way to mix it up is to not think at all, simply act and react, but this has its drawbacks, most of which are painful and memorable.

I need to get out of here.

I love my friends, I love my bed, I love my clothes, and I love the women I meet, but in the end, it all seems like ashes when thought about into oblivion. I sit and think far too much than is healthy about life and the future, and all I do is terrify and excite myself. There are two given solutions to such a life and living it: I can stop thinking, or I can run. I can either ignore the feelings in my chest and the thoughts in my head, and instead live vicariously through my actions, or I can run into these thoughts head on, and I hope I break them before they break me.

After more thinking, which, understandably, put in the decision making situation in the first place, I’ve decided to run. Just for a while, just long enough to see what it is I’m thinking about, but it’s a decision nonetheless. After this semester, I’ll be heading north for about a week or two. I’m saving money up now, and I know of a few places I can sleep at. The plan is to take a train north and find my way back down. I know it sounds stupid and dangerous, but if I don’t, my brain will become stupid and dangerous. It seems like a fair exchange, but maybe that’s only because my brain is already partially stupid and dangerous.

The reason I’m posting this on blogger is because this is definitely going to be a religious trip. I plan on speaking with some religious official in every city I get to, regardless of affiliation. Actually, I’m hoping to meet more Islamic teachers than I am priests. That’s where most of my thoughts end up, so a journey to understand religion outside of a textbook seems appropriate.

I’ll be accepting reasons not to go, but I’ll accept donations more readily.

Wish me luck.

Macbeth.

Abu Abdallah Al-Harith Al-Muhasibi

I love you.

God and love are usually synonymous within religious circles. I don't know if I've ever seen a book, poem, speech, essay, credo, maxim, or phrase about God that didn't either directly say or at least imply God's love. God loves all of us, from the wicked to the willing, from the slave to the sadist. He welcomes rapist, poet, lover and philosopher. He understands and knows all of us. He sees all. He loves all, for all is in His form, in His name, living and dying by His timetable. He is, well, God, Godding it up with as much Godliness as he has, which is a surprisingly large amount of Godliness. And he loves: everything I've ever read about him can always be followed back to that simple and awe inspiring knowledge: He loves us. He doesn't care who you are, but only that you are His child. You may stray away from the flock, but you are still his sheep, and he is only saddened that you cannot share Heaven with him. He loves you, and accepts you, and has always done so.

It's so touching to read a passage devoted to God's love and how we see it. It's everywhere, and to follow it is natural, and to stray is impossible. It's hard for people to comprehend our own love. Love between people is as beautiful as it can be frightening. We cross oceans out of love, and we also raze buildings to the ground because of it. Love can make us stay up at night, staring at the stucco and trying desperately to go to sleep, if only to be rested to see her tomorrow. Love makes us lose our cool. Love makes us dig scratches into their backs. Love makes us stare. Love makes us freak out. There are millions of things the simple explosion of love can do to people. We don't know how it works. We can't honestly say we understand it. We can only embrace it, and feel its maddening tug pull us along through life.

God's love: everything stated above, multiplied by infinity.

Crazy @#$%, right?

Muhammad

Surrender seems real.

I was excited this week about learning about Islam. I admittedly knew next to nothing about it before we began, and even now have only begun to scratch the surface. Despite this religion being one of the newest major religions to be accepted by the world, it seems to be built on principles and ideas prevalent among many other religions. I've said it before and will most likely say it again: at the core, many religions share the same thoughts. Do not harm others. Love your God. Be honest. Be good. Do what is right. Most religions are designed on principles, or built on the backs of a man and his words, or a combination of both. It seems, like Christianity, that Islam is built firmly on the words and life of a very worthy man.

When first reading this passage, a few things struck me immediately. One was the actual word choice of Muhammad. “We created men: We know the very whisperings within him and We are closer to him than his jugular vein.” To me, this says more than entire sections in the Bible. It seems real. I spoke in an earlier writing about how when the writer of a passage seems real, it becomes simpler to see the message he has. This is definitely the case with Muhammad. After these few words, the rest of the passage began to seem less like an assignment and more like plunging into wisdom. “Wherever you turn is God's face.” It's simple, elegant, complicated, and short. I can find many passages within the Bible that share this sentiment, but to find it in so few words is something rare.

“True religion is surrender.” I love these words. Every time I think of religious devotion, I think of a deal with God. Men pray to God, worship Him, and in return, he guides, touches, and accepts them. This short line speaks of an entirely different way of knowing God. He is not some change machine that you can receive from as you give: he is God. He is, and He is more than that. You cannot expect from him, but only jump off the cliff and feel him tearing your skin apart. You must jump into the ocean and know He is every drop, and feel them all at once. You must fall in love and know that to truly feel God's love would be more than your mere body could take. You would break in ecstasy.

God is God, and cannot be less than that.

One day, I'm gonna get up, and get right back into the city with my flamethrower mouth, you bet your life it won't be pretty.
-Chia-Like, I Shall Grow by Say Anything

Our words are so much more potent than we really realize.

I have a feeling that every religion is the same thing, but nobody bothered to tell anybody else. Every religion we’ve studied so far has had some idea of an enlightenment: a concept about either escaping or fully realizing the reality around them. All of them require a realization, and all of them have some stipulation or other regarding material wealth. All of them can happen to any person, but most of them don’t push the idea of enlightenment onto people. There are so many similarities: it’s as if during the Axial Age, everyone got together and had an assembly, where they agreed not only on a grand truth, but then also decided to totally @#$% with every other generation that was to come afterward.

Another similarity is impossibilities in wordplay. “I am the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end.” Such a statement is seemingly impossible. That said, it makes more sense than a never ending net covered in identical gemstones. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Again, impossible unless one is willing to believe. You have to believe for these things to be possible. Faith fuels the idea, which gives it life and power enough to spread, thus becoming a theory, and then a religion. At which point you are persecuted, because your idea isn’t exactly the same as theirs, even though the basic concepts are similar.

And the cycle continues. Thank God… thank ____ for basic cable, or else all we’d do is kill each other.

All of this originates from words. Language is one of, if not the most, important aspect of humanity, as it allows us to grow and change. I feel like I’m beginning to stray away from John the Evangelist’s teachings, but these are the things his words made me think about. With sentience comes questioning, and with questioning comes a demand of answers. When none come, we devise our own based on what we believe we don’t know.

It’s all so very confusing, long, and impossible. I know the Evangelist meant nothing but good things, but he sent me spiraling into confusion. Thank ____ nobody cares about new ideas anymore.

Jesus of Nazareth

If only there was someone worth listening to…

I never thought of Jesus as a person before. It seems wrong to consider the figurehead of Christianity, the unstoppable, inhuman force bound by a sacred book, to be a mere person. He should be fantastic at the very least, unbelievable in all aspects. He must be huge, towering over his subjects even as he meets their stares with calm, loving eyes. He must be a veritable walking encyclopedia of quotes and sayings, able to sway the most confident of naysayers with simple, manmade words. His presence should be enlightening, his followers abject, his form perfect. How then is it possible for Jesus to be human? How could he be cold to his parents? How could he need saving from sin through John the Baptist? And more importantly, how could he live on forever in his teachings and his words?

It seems impossible for Christianity to have grown to the level it’s currently at, but it has. America was founded on its beliefs. Millions have been killed in his name, and millions have been saved. His mere name can inspire a myriad of reactions: love, hope, hate, denial, disdain, acceptance, fear, and grace, to name but a few. The burden he carried as he died seems trivial compared to the burden he know carries as the focal point of one of the most influential religions, and by that, one of the most influential powers, on the planet.

That said, I can’t imagine the burden resting on anyone else’s shoulders.

His teachings, while seemingly outdated, are as true today as they were when he first came to understand them, waiting for forty days and forty nights as he contemplated the meaning of everything. Rather than offhandedly dismissing it all as 42, he instead went on to speak some of the most profound and hopeful words recorded and recovered through time. From the simple “Unless you change your life and become like a child, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven,” to the more complex story of the prodigal son, his words have gone on to carve a huge part of the world out for his teachings.

I’m glad to know what I now know about him. I never really took the time to research Jesus properly, but after learning more about him and his teachings, I’ve come to realize why so many people follow him. Despite the trouble in his beginnings, it’s he legacy that truly went on to change the world. Does it matter whether he’s right or not? Shouldn’t we rather just be glad that his teachings carried on and not Caligula’s?

the Buddha, the Daimond Sutra, Huang Po, Wu-Men, Dogen

It's all beginning to blur...

I couldn't write about any one of the other passages after reading them. Padmasambhava's words had a depth to them that I couldn't help but get lost in, but the others seemed to be cut form the same thread, which isn't surprising, considering Buddhists believe they're from the same mind.

None of the readings bored me, and I am genuinely interested in the teachings of these men and women of the Buddhist faith. However, the message seems to be lost on me. I actually feel bad about this, like I've stolen a cookie and had to lie to my parents about it. It's this wonderful way of life, of letting go of pain and suffering and living a life of tranquility, and I can't begin to try and meditate without immediately wanting the suffering I so sorely need.

Having lived a life of loving capitalism, I find the idea of Buddhism far too foreign. I don't reject suffering, but accept it instead, knowing that we can grow past the troubles we have. I've learned to view problems as challenges, and pain as a way of recognizing those challenges. I've never once considered abandoning suffering, but rather learning new ways of coping and living with it instead. I don't what I'd do without self imposed suffering: the gnaw-on-your-own-ribcage sensation of teenage love is a pain I don't ever want to lose. Or craving. Obsession. Yearning. These are tortures that make life wonderful.

There's something about the detachment I see in the Buddhist faith that seems wrong for me. It works wonders for some people, but I couldn't live that way. Not now, at the very least. No suffering doesn't necessarily mean constant joy: if there are no dualities, then it be a neutral living. Peace is stagnation because nothing happens. With suffering, with duality, there is pain. There is suffering. But in contrast, there is also joy. Tears of joy. Gut wrenching smiles. Love that can tear buildings apart.

I can understand that pain can destroy people, but I also can understand the necessity of the terrifying and the problematic. Maybe when I am older, I will want something different. Maybe I'm only a month away from realizing I crave peace and calmness. But right now, in my wildly misunderstood youth, it's the pain and suffering that temper it into something worth talking about.

And that's a true suffering: when life is no longer worth discussing.

Padmasambhava

If only more people could have that kind of calm: the light is already shining.

Within moments of starting to read this passage, my mind had already started to wander. That's not to say that the passage bored me: on the contrary, it took only a few sentences of Padmasambhava's teachings to make my mind burst into thought. I had never though of a deathbed as a place of healing. One hears of deathbed conversions to a faith. It's been an scape plan for years, from the stylistic Oscar Wilde to the fictional Bart Simpson: it's a way of living life as you want to with no consequence.

This idea of deathbed teachings is entirely different, and altogether fascinating. I've considered death as an exit: there's not much left to do but wave goodbye. The Buddhists, however, disagree, adding another facet to this already fascinating religion. Instead of false hopes or promises, Buddhists continue to teach those about to die, giving them some final words to contemplate. People can claim understanding all their lives, but how can we truly know what we will believe when we're about to die until we are about to die?

That's what the first part of the passage made me think. The second part, the readings from The Book of the Great Liberation, was again very moving, but not as thought provoking. I have to admit, Buddhist optimism is hard to overlook. They're sense of peace and tranquility is a promise not easily ignored, especially when unsure of which faith to choose. I can't help but disagree with some of the core concepts of Buddhism, but the idea oneness is a universal I've been seeing a lot of lately. From string theories to religions, it's becoming an overwhelmingly accepted concept. Maybe it's not coincidence, and we are all truly connected with one another. Maybe we are all all from the same mind.

Or maybe Douglas Adams is God.

Pai-Chang

So Tsu-ssu, Chang-Tzu, Tu-Shun, Pai-Chang, and Hui-hai all walk into a bar. They approach the counter looking to order when the bartender looks at them and grins. “You know we have a drink named after you?” he said. Tsu-ssu, Chang-Tzu, Tu-Shun, Pai-Chang, and Hui-hui all looked at each other and asked, “you have a drink called Collection of Ancient Chinese Philosophers?”

There’s just something about this passage, and I can’t… quite… not want to read it. I feel a compulsion towards this passage, and I don’t know why. I just implicitly trust it. It seems honest. These other passages we’ve read, from the Bible to Yehiel Mikhal of Zlotchov, have been exactly what they were: a struggle to put into words that grandiose wonder that is everything and all. They are a group of men and women, scattered through time and challenges, that collectively think they’ve stumbled onto something that can only barely be explained. Frankly, this is a good thing. If they can explain it in layman’s terms, it wouldn’t be enlightenment, right?

Enter Pai-Chang: he doesn’t sound like a man with stones on the mountainside. He doesn’t sound like a man barely garbed sitting in the desert with the most beautiful smile. He doesn’t sound like a man with a megaphone on the street corner with frustrated tears in his eyes. He sounds like Hans. He sounds like Cory. He sounds like me, to be honest. He sounds like your best friend who’s had a new idea. You laugh and make a quick joke when he tells you about enlightenment, and then you listen. You absorb his seemingly quirky message, and you forget about it until you get home and lay awake at night. And then you understand.

It’s the last five words that really sink into me. “Please, hold on to it.” It’s so simple, but speaks volumes. I never thought of enlightenment in a sense of fleetingness. I always assumed that enlightenment would be permanent: you realize, and you continue realizing. What if you could forget? Or be distracted? This puts enlightenment in the hands of people, not sages. It makes enlightenment subject to the human condition, and that completely levels the playing field. We are all subject to the human condition. We are all then potentially subject to enlightenment.

Thanks, Pai-Chang. I owe you one.

Hai-hui

Enlightened individuals don’t disgorge enough these days.

Okay, I understand I might seem like a broken record, as I sustain my pointing out of flaws for one more week. I’m sure many, many people do well under the Buddhist banner. I’m sure that Buddhist meditation does fantastic things for some people. I’m even sure that were I to try Buddhist meditation, I would most likely enjoy some of it.

But really, did I read the passage incorrectly? The entire concept seems so… tragic. I must admit, serenity sounds like a good deal. I’m not going to lie; I’ve heard nothing but good things about serenity. But the serenity described in the passage is entirely contrary to what I believe is key to, well, living.

Hui-hai stated that “a mind that dwells on nothing is the Buddha mind, enlightenment mind, uncreated mind.” This scares me. We are alive. As humans, we have been gifted with an evolved intelligence that outstrips everything else on the planet by far. We have advanced in the fields of medicine and science and hit a point where we can keep ourselves alive when involved in accidents or when suffering from horrific diseases. We are masters of change and evolution: In the early 1900’s, the Wright brothers had a controlled glide. Roughly fifty years later, we landed on the moon. That’s ridiculous when you actually take the time to consider that. Our minds are our greatest asset: without it, we’d be nothing but ill-equipped apes. And in light of this, this wonderful genetic talent of ours to think and to act, there is a large group of people that devotes their time to reaching a state of uncreation? This scares me.

I realize that many people use this technique to escape from life in order approach it with a fresh, open mind, and I respect that, to an extent. I have qualms, however, about calling it enlightenment. I will be honest in saying that I don’t know enough about how and why existence exists, but I believe that certain meditation techniques, like the ones used in modern Buddhism, are steps backward.

Bakhya ibn Pakuda

Isn't it easier to do evil?

I have a feeling that God is like the Sacramento based funk/acoustic/pop/fun band Cake. Every time I listen to Cake, I smile: I dance while I drive, a sing along, and I even play an air bass, which is even more dangerous to do while driving than air doing the trumpet parts. I turn all of my friends onto Cake, even though Cake is so natural to love it seems odd they don't already know about them. When Cake speaks, I listen. The message of peace and good living is easily understood, and the more obscure words Cake has to say are worth examining. You don't have to be rich, famous, or powerful to enjoy Cake. Even the moniker assigned to them, Cake, carries so much lightness and joy that it's difficult to think about without smiling.

After reading the passage, I started to see the similarities. God's message is simple, yet impacting. His reasoning is His own. Even when he hurts you, like never playing live shows nearby and instead playing them just beyond a rational driving distance, you cherish Him all the more.

That said, I have a few frowning faces to put on the chart. The idea of living a life devoted to naught but God is similar to the idea of living solely in the spiritual realization of the Atman and the Brahman, and I have some serious issues with this. Like stated last week, I feel we should enjoy what reality we have around us instead of ignoring it. If there is a spiritualism to be realized, why shouldn't go hand in hand with concrete, foliage, and mountain ranges? If God made us purely to serve in his name, why did he only give us 60-100 years? That's nothing! Doodles last longer than that. Wreckage lost at sea has a longer life span. Graffiti lives on more than we do. I have difficulty believing we were given a reality, but told to ignore it in exchange for something better. We show us the first fleeting offer? Why give us art, sex, passion, books, cars, cabinets, paper, microphones, glass, candles, pain, sadness, anger, happiness, ecstasy, joy, and self-realization if we weren't meant to embrace them like the passing things they are?

I know, I keep asking unanswerable questions. It's the problem of addressing a hypothetical problem.

All this aside, this was a lovely passage. It is inspirational, in a way, just not in terms I agree with.

I hope they play Cake in Hell.

Maybe some Bright Eyes.

The Bible

"Oh kneel for me I am the savior of fear and filth, so be still."
-Be Still, Bright Light Fever

I have this very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's unnerving and unsettling, not unlike watching an earthquake open up and swallow something. And like that earthquake, its too big and unwieldy to do anything with.

I have a terrible suspicion that somebody read the Bible wrong.

It's a grounded suspicion, as it is something still being discussed today. It was compiled years after the fact, translated and copied again and again, so it is perfectly understandable that people could debate its validity and meaning. And for the most part, I agree with the idea that some ideas and passages are too vague to be understood at first glance, or not applicable in today's society. Many passages have become convoluted and worked out to no avail with time, but there was one passage in our reading that stood out, and it made me very scared.

"I have put my truth in your innermost mind, and I have written it in your heart. No longer does a man need teach his brother about God. For all of you know Me, from the most ignorant to the most learned, from the poorest to the most powerful."

We, and this is a vague term meant to encompass today's world and the people that acted to make it what it is, have killed people on the exact opposite premise of this direct quote. Wars started in direct opposition of these unbelievable simple lines. People are gone, and these lines meant to save them have only outlived them.
Virtually every early civilization, tribe, hut collective, city, town, fishing hole, and cave grouping had its own creation myth. From the Coyote Tales to the Egyptian narratives, every civilization had an explanation or reasoning for why existence exists. More importantly, they all had a God. Be it many Gods, a few Gods, or one God, they all agreed that something beyond simple reasoning had made things as they were. Now comes my terrible suspicion: what if all of these myths were through God? What if Christianity's one God is the only God (as many believe), and that, through him, these myths were founded? The Bible states, as I quoted above, that "all of you know Me," and that "I have put my truth in your innermost mind." If God is telling the truth, as I feel compelled to believe He is, than every noted time a man has gone to another man and said "look at my God," they were acting in direct opposition of God's word.

I used the opening lyric of Bright Light Fever's "Be Still" to illustrate my point: so many people over time have used quotations and reasoning from the Bible to prove and put forth their own points. Does that make any of it right?

Shankara

I always find sacred peace in movie theaters.

After the outstanding joy found by reading the Upanishads, this passage almost seems… dirty. It sticks to the readers mind like mud, trying to blacken the sunlight. I know the message is positive, but it falls short of me. The embrace of Brahman described seems more like a dismissal of it. A waste. Understanding of the physical world should bring embrace of it, not dismissal. Enlightenment through the Atman seems to be a boring, unfulfilling life. Must we separate ourselves from the physical world? If both are connected, wouldn't the acceptance and bond of both the Brahman and the Atman bring a raging joy and passion for the real? If our 'soul' lives forever, but is bound to this time by the Brahman (please correct me if Im wrong. I knew nothing about Hinduism before taking this class and may have miswritten my notes), than shouldn't we enjoy the time we're in? Shouldn't we eat Kolbe beef, enjoy the splendors of youtube.com, travel lands previously unexplored and unknown, and maybe most importantly, learn? Shouldn't we embrace the wealth of knowledge we have in our time? If the Atman is eternal, which is something we can't understand, why should we abandon what we do know, which is the Brahman? The 'perfect' man described in the passage was a man that lived sparsely, completely in tune with the Atman while rooted in the Brahman. He was wise in the ways of what can't be learned, and therefore lived beyond simple wants.

If such a bond was true, I feel it would be reversed: if one understood the eternity, they should cling to and enjoy the unique tastes and textures of what time they are confined to. Instead of rejecting the massive known world, they should hunt it, relish in each and every amazing second of time they have to be there.

I understand this is a short entry, but I can't find anything else to say without repeating myself. It just seems odd to me. Maybe it's because I'm so rooted in what is, but… it is what it is. Enjoy enlightenment: I love Kolbe beef.

the Upanishads

Exactly.

I can't honestly explain how happy this passage made me. That feeling you get, that can't really be defined: similar to kissing someone for the first time. You immediately doubt yourself, because feeling excited enough to run away isn't confidence by any stretch. You can almost feel the individual currents of adrenaline making you nuts. Afterward you claim your thoughts were racing, but you know better: they were right on her. At every moment and second, they didn't stray once. Your body feels full, as your heart pounds and your chest quivers in waves. You feel so full of motion: it seems impossible for you to be standing. Your fingers are moving slightly, and you keep blinking. Why aren't you running?

That's what this passage gave me. Why can't everyone be so joyous about life and living? Can it really be so simple: just live, and God will know? Can everything be so undefined yet ultimately settled?

I don't know if I trust this passage. I want to, more than I've wanted to trust anything written down ever before. It just seems to be too much to be… to be. It's perfect, to quote it. And we can't help but doubt perfection. We get cold feet at weddings. We get afraid during childbirth. We don't make eye contact. It's the human condition: we're afraid of what can bring us undeniable and overwhelming joy, because we're so afraid of rejection. If we can only break down that boundary, but that line of thought must be saved for another day.

I believe in the first four sentences. Those lines can change the world. It really is that simple, isn't it? We over think everything. Maybe it is that simple: we can't explain God. The Bible could be just a creation myth that caught on. We have no idea what life is about, regardless of our advances in science. We have art, but that… that would take too long. I believe in art, more so than 300-600 words. I'll save that as well. But we have so many… things, and we still have no answers regarding the great mystery of everything. What we're missing is that maybe that's alright. Maybe we can't comprehend everything. So why not simply embrace what we have? Paint. Love. Talk. Learn. Make. Do. Don't be overcome by the unknown, but rather embrace all you can that you can know.

Live life. Be happy, be peaceful, smile. Live life.

Maybe this Hindu thing isn't as crazy as I thought.

Sa-Go-Ye-Wat-Ha (1752-1830)

“Thereupon the Indians smiled, and left.”

Sa-Go-Ye-Wat-Ha was a great man. It should always take only four pages of dialogue to convince anyone of the speaker’s character. It’s a shame we can’t always be as open and honest at all times, but that is the way our culture is today. I’m not attacking it, I’m just acknowledging it: honesty has come a long way from home, and it’s changed because of that.

I’m still trying to determine whether the Indians smiled out of honest courtesy, understanding, or a sarcasm that can only be applauded. Part of me knows it can’t be the last thought, but that same part very much wishes that was the case. I’m leaning towards understanding: the intense acceptance of life around them. The Indians truly were an amazing people, and their culture was just… something, wasn’t it? In comparison, our culture today is a concentric circle that will never share a common boundary with theirs. While honesty and truth was not even considered among their people, as it was so customary, today it is questioned at every turn, from a tongue in cheek comment in a casual conversation to a gavel slamming in a courtroom. The idea of being true to everyone seems so far away, but if just in the past or in the future as well can as of yet not be said without a touch of hope instead of certainty.

Obviously, there are similarities between this reading and the speech given by Chief Seattle besides the obvious “they’re both natives in contact with the settlers.” The key theme is that both leaders, and the people that follow them, chose to live as they were and as they wished as best as possible without giving in to the settlers wishes. They were the first punks, really, only I’m not sure how native music compares to a good three chord kick to the chest. I make light of the topic, honestly, because the entire message Sa-Go-Ye-Wat-Ha delivered seemed more positive. Maybe it was the smiling, maybe it was the positive outlook he had, or maybe it was the fact that the Chief seemed to have a more... calm tone. Regardless, the reading does give a new look into the Indians way of life, and was very enlightening. I’m also glad that there was someone in time who used the phrase “eye-opening” as commonly as I do.

Again, I say that Sa-Go-Ye-Wat-Ha was a great man, but I should add that he was also an admirable man. He stood up to a greater power in defense of his beliefs. Such a thing should not go unnoticed. It’s a shame, then, that no one felt the same way in his time, and the only notice that was taken was by the greater power.

Chief Seattle (1786-1866)

Decent white Americans can read the passage without shame: what decent white Americans can't do is ignore it.

There’s no proper way to truly express how that short passage made me feel. The only word I can think of that properly describes sitting on the edge of my bed, an unheard track by My Chemical Romance playing in the background with my hand unconsciously clenched as I look at but don’t read the last words of Chief Seattle’s speech, is awkward. I felt so out of place after reading those few pages of thought. It was akin to touching the obelisk and realizing I could use tapir bones as a weapon: such a simple idea once understood, but it can leave a civilization staring in awe, or in this case, a disheveled looking youth in a slight disarray. I know of what happened hundreds of years ago at the founding of the country: I understand the thought process of the time, and I can sympathize with the settlers and their way of thinking. But now, it’s… different. Now I know what happened hundreds of years ago at the founding of this country.

Chief Seattle’s speech was very enlightening for me. I’ve never truly understood what happened to the natives of this land when the settlers came. It had to be done, in the name of progress, much like the crusades and slavery, and that it is on the same list as those evils should be common knowledge to everyone, and yet sadly it rarely is. I’m not about to become an advocate for Native rights, but I think I’ll try. I’ll do something. I don’t even have any idea what that will be, but it seems wasteful of the knowledge I have to simply not do… something.

It’s so easy for someone to look back on history. Once we’re a generation or two, or even a year of two, removed from an event, we can start to see it differently. It’s easier to see things as facts instead of events once we’re reading it out of a slightly cold book that’s been sitting on your floor all night, rather than living the life of seeing everything you’re ever loved being raped and changed by a force that cannot be defeated and hardly reasoned with. We can see history as a huge play of forces that are all connected: of course Europe would discover America, and of course they would settle there, and of course the natives would put up a fight. It’s when we truly think about, and look outside of the history books written by the victors that we see what happened. This is true with all history, but especially with what happened to the Native Americans when we came. And I use the word we, even though I don’t consider any of us today responsible. What’s done is done, sadly, and that really is that. But we must shoulder this black cross whether we know it or not. I for one would like to think that people today could at least make an effort to learn what was lost. We can visit a Native American museum. We can read a book about them. We could, at the very least, Wikipedia their culture.

What’s truly unsettling is that this is what it’s come to: we could at least Wikipedia them.