Reflections: Angels of History

You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness
Have lain too long
Facedown in ignorance,
Your mouths spilling words
Armed for slaughter.

 - Maya Angelou

Language must have evolved because of a longing to decrease our sense of separation from the rest of the Universe. When did words cease to function as what they were intended for?

Each one of us is ignorant in our own unique way. If we weren't, we wouldn't be human beings. It's good to remember even as I wish it weren't true.

Photo credit: Isolde Ohlbaum

"This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing in from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward." - Walter Benjamin 

* In honor of Martin Luther King Jr Day. It's a sunny 5oF with the wind out of the WNW at 13 mph. The photo and quote are from Carolyn Forche's book of poems: The Angel of History.

Reflections: The Art of Disappearing... & Reappearing (I)

When I first saw the title of Ajahn Brahm's book The Art of Disappearing, I rolled my eyes in a mild reaction of disbelief, although I'm not sure whether I was rolling my eyes at myself or whoever came up with the title. (Since it was not Ajahn Brahm who wrote the Preface, maybe it was not not Ajahn Brahm or an editor of sorts.) The reason for my reaction is that in my experience "disappearing" or "dropping off", while it becomes easy enough at any given instant with practice, has unpredictable and uncontrollable effects that create not "art" per se, but messes in my life -- like my mom's house and it's effect (see the previous post).

Then I thought of the chaos and confusion of our current times and allowed that not only "disappearing", but the resulting mess might be viewed as art, like in the Jackson Pollock painting below:

From http://www.guggenheim.org

When I started meditating, I know I was drawn in because of the peace and simplicity I experienced at times as a result. I'm not sure exactly when, but at some point, I began to develop the expectation that if I learned and applied what the Buddha taught, my life would start feeling more peaceful as well. More like this Rothko painting:

From WikiPaintings

Sources of discomfort, suffering and pain arise not only (a) from the gap between reality as it is and what I want or expected it to be, but also (b) from a reluctance to recognize, accept and "drop off" views I hold of myself, the nature of the mind, others and life -- each of which contributes to my reality.

I've grown to suspect that most people who chose a monastic life style, like Ajahn Brahm, initially chose it hoping for a peaceful and beautiful life like depicted in the above Rothko. What they sacrifice or exchange is their freedom of expression and diversity of experience. And, since a person still has to retrain the mind, the challenges are similar whether inside a monastery or not.

Right now I'm experiencing that self, the nature of the mind, others and life is more like the Pollock painting and that once I accept that, I can "drop" into the detail of each moment and maintain the peace, stability and simplicity that is present in the Rothko... at least occasionally. It's relinquishing control, but with the effect of allowing original features to appear.

Reflections: Practice-Experience & the Ten Thousand Things

One of the thoughts that's visited me time-to-time over the last week is that it's been nearly four years since the beginning of my online presence and nearly three years since the start of this blog.

Both of those decisions were motivated by a search for Sangha. (By Sangha I'm referring to friends that would be supportive of my efforts to practice and increase my understanding of what the Buddha taught). The start of this blog also marked my decision to get a divorce.

To quote from that first post: "At this particular moment, I am enjoying the not knowing, a sense of hope..."

What was I hoping for? More rewarding connection with other human beings, with a preference for people interested in what the Buddha taught because that was the direction I found most personally rewarding. The opportunity to feel fulfilled at least occasionally.

~ ~ ~

As I sit back and review the last four years, I see both positive and negative outcomes:

On the positive side: my on-line Sangha, my brief experiences at Antaiji and Sanshin, a living arrangement that allows more time for studies of the Shobogenzo and provides a quiet place to sit, study and sleep, at least two meals per day, and a local Sangha which although small, without a teacher and not very interactive, does provide me with company during zazen.

On the negative side, my actual interactive contact with people in real life is more minimal than ever in my life before. In fact, it's almost non-existent. One of the negative things I find myself saying to myself sometimes is: Most people in prisons and even the homeless have more conversations in a day than I do.

In short, I seem to have gone backwards in terms of what I was hoping for at the time I wrote my first post. I'm trapped in my circumstances for an unknown amount of time. I'm still trapped in the mortgage I share with my ex and, as a result, my current position. More recently, the double whammy of my mother's recent passing and dealing with what she left behind feels like more than I can stand.

~ ~ ~

For the past few months, Bodhidharma's encounter with Emperor Wu has run through my mind repeatedly:

Emperor Wu: "...Who is standing before me?"

Bodhidharma: "I know not..."

As I've practiced, one of the things I've learned is to "drop off" my views of who I am. In theory, by dropping off views of self, a person lives a more peaceful, richer and fuller life -- although not necessarily "happier" in the typical definition of happiness -- and is actualized by the ten thousand things. In the spirit of letting the ten thousand things provide the answer to the question of who I am,

As an example, the livingroom. (I'm going to delete this picture.)

I am encountering walls of resentment in myself as karma (or whatever) continues, without relief, to hit me over the head with answers like my mother's house and stalling even small efforts to get myself out isolation and interacting with people. This is all I am? 

The resentment I'm feeling is due to the fact that the above is not what I chose. I chose getting away from being a slave to inanimate objects and increasing interactions with sentient beings. 

~ ~ ~

Recently, rather than reading Dogen, I've been returning to some of Theravada literature as well as listening to some Dharma talks. This started when my friends at Amazon recommended The Art of Disappearing by Ajahn Brahm, which, by the way, may be one of the best and most straight-forward guides to meditation and enlightenment around (if enlightenment exists). To quote from the Preface: "Do not read this book if you want to be a somebody. It will make you a nobody." The Preface was signed "Not really Ajahn Brahm"... Because this post is getting long, I intend to write more in follow-up, including what I've gathered from Ajahn Brahm in regard to the issue I've mentioned, the resentment I'm feeling, as well as offer a few more comments about his book.

Reflections: Things as They Are, Indirect Costs, and Gratitude

As I was working on another bit of writing, I re-read a thought I tried to articulate (though not very well) in another post, namely that:

merely by existing, i.e., by meeting the requirements that allow me to stay alive in a reasonably comfortable manner, I am indirectly responsible for killing even though that is not my intention.

That seems to be a pretty extreme statement at first. I say it the way I say it though because its true. I am part of humanity (I mean the human race) - a massive and often sluggish human machine.  Humanity, albeit indirectly, does things I don’t agree with, is moved by forces I have very little say in, and uses resources, causing physical suffering for some while helping others who are more privileged, and even kills in my name. I recognize there isn’t much I can do to change the situation – namely, to affect a change in this massive forward movement of the human machine.  

Even though I’m unhappy with some of the things that go on, I’ve felt pretty helpless in the face of it, so I’ve tended to accept this as ‘the way things are’ – and, as I think about it now, the irony of this phrasing, given a similar one in Buddhism is not lost on me. Because I am pretty positive that there is a difference in shrugging our shoulders in helplessness or frustration and what is intended in Buddhist literature. But how much different or is the difference in how we look at things?

I think most folks I know, myself included, often feel we are entitled to live our lives the way we do – after all, we’ve worked hard for and earned what we've got. We pay the direct costs and forget that there are Indirect Costs to our individual existences. We can’t begin envision all the indirect costs of being alive – even if we take the time to be mindful of where things come from. 

If we have to do without to make the world a better place I’m sure a lot of us would be willing to, especially if it became some sort of ‘save the world’ movement. But what would you chose to do without? Every person’s choice would be different, because we're human and unique and each have different dreams and desires. The only way we’d be able to come to some overwhelming agreement would be in the face of a major crisis or if we were to completely deny ourselves precisely what makes us human, i.e. live banal, uniform, uncreative existences. Anything less, and we’d be precisely in the same position we are now – living life within the massive forward movement of the human machine.

I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m Grateful to be alive and to be allowed to express my individuality, actually, even more so, now that I recognize the indirect costs and what they’re about. 

I'm not saying we should be pacifists. Only suggesting that we can pause on those occasions we get frustrated or angry and recognize this is part of the price of being human. Remember our gratitude for being allowed to be just as we are.

Just a few thoughts, stimulated by a lot frustration I've seen in some of my friends the last couple of days.