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.
Friday, September 26, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
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.
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?
-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?
Friday, September 12, 2008
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.
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.
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.
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