A Pretty Song/Mary Oliver

 From the complications of loving you

I think there is no end or return.

No answer, no coming out of it.

Which is the only way to love, isn’t it?

This isn’t a playground, this is

earth, our heaven, for a while.

Therefore I have given precedence

to all my sudden, sullen dark moods

that hold you in the center of my world.

And I say to my body: grow thinner still.

And I say to my fingers, type me a pretty song.

And I say to my heart: rave on.

In Order To…

In order to arrive at having pleasure in everything,
Desire to have pleasure in nothing.
In order to arrive at possessing everything,
Desire to possess nothing.
In order to arrive at being everything,
Desire to be nothing.
In order to arrive at knowing everything,
Desire to know nothing.

In order to arrive at that point where you take no pleasure,
you must go by a way that gives no pleasure.
In order to arrive at that point where you know nothing,
you must go by a way you do not know.
In order to arrive at that point where you are free of possessing,
you must go by a way you do not possess.
In order to arrive at that point at which you are nothing,
you must go through that which you are not.

— St. John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel, bk I, ch 13, sect 11

I like this.  It reads like the Tao Te Ching.  And it rings with truth. 

 In order to have pleasure in everything, desire nothing.  But to get to that place where you desire nothing, you have to walk a path that is without pleasure.  One of the paradoxes of life:  true pleasure is only experienced on the tails of suffering.  Pain sharpens your ability to recognize the joys inherent in life.

 To aquire knowledge, it is necessary to get to that place where you realize you know nothing.  But to get to that place, you have to walk a path that you don’t know.  The road of un-knowing.

To possess everything, you must possess nothing.  This is a self-evident truth.  But to arrive at a place of not-possessing, you must walk a path that you don’t possess.  It takes recognizing that the tides of life answer to a stronger call than your own wish to control it.

And to be everything, to have that sense of identification with and connection to all things, you must become nothing.  Yet how does one become nothing?  By walking through a time of being what you are not.   Shanitdeva said, “If you wish to create, as quickly as possible, real shelter from sorrow for both yourself and others – you should practice the holy secret teaching of the transposition of self and other.

We’re all broken

His face is kind, though it tells the story of a life full of battles.  His hair and beard are more gray than black and his teeth cause him pain.  There is a twinkle in his eyes most days, except maybe the ones where, according to him, he has “too many feelings”. 

 He came up rough in the Carolina mountains, in one of those twisted families where a parent chooses one child to abuse.  His early years weigh heavy on him still, binding him with tangled emotional knots that he can’t unwind on his own.  He lives on the fringes of society, making his own unique way with odd jobs, expressing his unusual soul in folksy metal art, poetry and inventions.  His philosophies are as free-spun as he is and he has never met a stranger.  Either unaware or uncaring of social mores, he chats openly with everyone he sees and most folks enjoy that.  His temper can be hot at times and once you’ve lost his good opinion, he doesn’t waste time pretending to like you.

I don’t always know how to respond to him, but I love him.  It makes me hurt sometimes, to think of the hardships he faces just to live from day-to-day.  He searches hard for happiness and so finds it most often.  But under the happiness is that twisted knot. 

 I imagine him sometimes, without that knot.  I think about his childlike passion for life, his love of everyone he sees.  I think how wonderful it would be if he could share that love and enthusiasm for living with others in ways that they would better receive.  I imagine the connection he would feel, the one I fear he often doesn’t really have.  So many love him, yet so few have a real connection with him.  We all need that connection, that sense of belonging and being understood and valued. 

If only we lived in a culture that put a high value on mental health.  It’s like aids was in the 80′s.  The stigma is still there, the fear.  I don’t understand it.  Don’t we all suffer from the need to have some help unwinding the knots we all have inside, to some extent or another?  Life is full of sorrows and suffering; life scars us and cripples us, robbing us of our ability to see clearly and live well.  How I wish every broken soul could find mending, not just those rich enough and brave enough to seek that help.  If only it were a priority to develop multitudes of ways for the hurting to find comfort and the crippled to be made whole.  Wouldn’t we be a stronger people?  Wouldn’t we be a people who loved more and more deeply?  Wouldn’t our lives be better lived?  Wouldn’t we be happier?  We are such an unhappy nation.

I see my friend most days that I work at my job at the Waffle House.  I try to be present for him, to look him in the eyes and send him love.  I chant my metta over him.  (May he feel protected and safe.  May he be contented and pleased.  May his body provide him with strength.  May his life unfold smoothly, with ease.)  I give him hugs, unless I see that he has too many feelings.  But I mourn for the man he could be, in a different culture; a man whose wounds could be healed and his uniqueness celebrated and valued.

essentials

The essence of my practice is to cultivate these three inner qualities:  Kindness, Clarity and Wisdom.

 

Kindness:  An all-pervading sense of friendliness toward self and other as the foundation for all thoughts, words and actions.  My longing for kindness has begun to inform all I do and think.  Is it kind?, I ask myself again and again through out my day.  Was that kind?,  I ask myself even oftener.  I practice to get closer to the present tense in my questioning.

 

Clarity:   The ability to see clearly, without the fogginess of baggage, old stories, twisted logic and ego chest-thumping.  The clear vision of what is, in this moment, without the clouding of perception brought by negative mind habits, makes it easier to be kind.  With clarity comes the ability to stay in the present and my thoughts, words and actions can express truth. 

 

Wisdom:  It isn’t about knowledge or intelligence.  It’s about insight and mindfulness.  It is the ability to see what is true in this moment and what is needed in this moment.  It is also the ability to see through the habits of the mind – including stress, disappointment, self-criticism and worry – that create suffering.  With insight, I can retain my equanimity.  I am given new and often startling perspectives.  With mindfulness, I don’t miss the little clues;  the markers on the path come into view.  My  step becomes sure and light.  Plodding turns into dancing.

And the icing on the cake?

Joy:  Not an emotion.  Emotions are like the wind, they blow through.  No, it is more a return to the natural state of the soul, a sense of well-being and peace.

dark wings

Reading a friend’s blog, I wondered what my animal totem would be, if I had one.  I sat and let my mind rest just to see if something popped up.  Maybe something cool like a white wolf or flashy like an eagle.  Imagine my surprise when the creature that popped in was a bat! 

But bats are kind of scary, right?  Sort of symbolic of disease and death and yucky stuff.  But then I read that the bat is considered a pretty neat totem.  Some of the symbolism for the bat: 

 rebirth and transformation,

 inner depth,

 ability to see through illusion,

 exploring the underbelly of reality,

 comfort with darkness. 

Then, a few minutes later, I ran across this piece of a poem by Wendell Berry:

 To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

Suddenly a bat as totem makes perfect sense.  These last years of transformation, of un-learning, of becoming more comfortable with not-knowing, of making friends with my shadow side … it’s a good fit.

I really don’t know squat about spirit guides or animal totems.  But what I can appreciate is the imaginative representation of the qualities needed to thrive in this life.  There is within the neurotic, twisted conglomeration I think of as “me” … a “me” that is wise, fearless, peaceful and full of compassion, able to handle life as it comes, moment by moment, with equanimity.  There is within me the bat, the white wolf and the eagle, all three and more.  Right now, I need the qualities of the bat.  It brings me some sort of comfort to remember that I have all that I need for whatever is.  I can trust my steps in this darkness, knowing that all is as it should be.  There really are blooms in this place traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

To have succeeded

To laugh often and much;

to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;

to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;

to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;

to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden or a redeemed social condition;

to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.

This is to have succeeded.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Laundry mat

She looks tired, but peaceful.  There is a meditative grace in the folding of the soft, well-worn undies.  She gazes into the night, her shoulders stooped with years, her long braid white but full.  The lines radiating from her eyes grant them a softness, the small smile her default setting.  One pair after another until there is a neat, rainbow stack of silky squares.  Resting her worn hands lightly on the pile, she pauses.  A breath, then another and she bends slowly to start on the socks.

Not enlightened, just trying to stay awake

When it comes to Buddhist thought, I prefer the word “awakening” to “enlightenment”.  Enlightenment seems to infer some absolute insight or understanding or maybe even absolute truth with a capital T.  I distrust any body of thought now that holds claims to Absolute Truth.

Whereas, with the term awakening there is the sense of becoming as opposed to having arrived.  Awakening puts me to mind of living a more engaged life.   That is what I think it all boils down to – waking up to life, to its cycles, its joys and pains, the beauty and the tragedy of it.  All of life teaches, all of life sings when I am awake.  Every enemy becomes a friend with a lesson to teach.  Each hardship is transformed to the loving carving of character.  Simple pleasures bloom on what was an arid expanse of mindless distraction.  Time stretches.  Life itself becomes cozier, richer and more interesting.  With awakening comes the privilege of living an examined life.  The tapestry becomes more complex, deeper in hue and dazzling in its ever-changing designs.  With the release of clinging and negativity the waters calm, become tranquil.

“Are you a God?” they asked the Buddha.
“No,” he replied.
“Are you an angel, then?”
“No.”
“A saint?”
“No.”
“Then what are you?”
Replied the Buddha:

I am awake.

Ten Thousand Idiots

Ten Thousand Idiots

It is always a danger
to aspirants on the Path

when they begin
to believe and act

as if the ten thousand idiots
who so long ruled and lived inside

have all packed their bags
and skipped town
or
died.
- Hafiz

Nirvana. Big Mind.  Spacious Mind.  Enlightenment.  Being Awake.  Centering.  Call it what you will.  It requires preparation.  A deconstruction is needed, a deconstruction of habitual thought patterns and limiting beliefs.  This provides the blank slate needed for true inquiry, leading to fresh insights.  When finally you understand that you don’t know, knowledge arises of its own volition.  Things you knew without knowing you knew them become a light for the darkness of not-knowing.

And who is this person experiencing the not-knowing?  It isn’t the same “I” who experienced the knowing.  It is a different “I”.  But who is this I?  It isn’t my thoughts.  They constantly change, they blow past like wispy clouds on a wind-swept day.

I am not I.

I am this one
Walking beside me whom I do not see,
Whom at times I manage to visit,
And whom at other times I forget;
The one who remains silent when I talk,
The one who forgives, sweet, when I hate,
The one who takes a walk where I am not,
The one who will remain standing when I die.

— Juan Ramón Jiménez

And is this not-knowing and no-self what we each experience on the Path?  Is there this solidarity in solitude?

And the more you become aware of the unknown self – if you become aware of it – the more you realize that it is inseparably connected with everything else that is.

– Alan Watts

When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.  John Muir

fear

I want one of these