Life review and the experiences of wonder and substance

OK, that wasn't the best title.  But it is based on an interesting occurrence. 

I was just starting to re-read a favorite book, and I was struck by something that the author's description evoked.  It didn't last long, and in a few minutes has already faded and receded mostly into a foggy remnant.  But it was a sudden brief collection of a few images from my life.  Not comprehensive, just the tiniest sampling.

It included the feeling I had when in the spring of 1992 I was in an hotel room in Barcelona, the kind I could have seen at the time as the kind of place an artist or musician might rent as an apartment for a while.  Nice and spacious but relaxed, a bit faded.  There was a sense of a new way of experiencing the world.  The same is true of when I was in Manhattan for the first time in 2003.  It was as if the texture of reality, the shade of the world, could be recolored -- a hint of a different way of living and seeing things like a window into a world of art and architecture and a basic disposition to life.  Something similar could be said of the six weeks I spent in the summer of 1995 as a volunteer at an archeological dig in the south of England.  But there was more to it than just memory.

What if you were the Buddha for one day?

If you are not a Buddhist this may not matter as much to you, but perhaps you can find a similar enough analogy that the exercise still works (for example, if you are Catholic I suppose "What if you were the Pope..." might be a halfway decent substitute). To clarify, the question isn't "Do you think you are a Buddha?" The question is not "Do you think you represent the spirit of the life and teachings of the Buddha?" The question is, what if somehow, someway, you woke up one day and realized that YOU were THE Buddha of this world for that day? You still would have the same debts, commitments, relationships, etc, you had the day before, but you would know that it was your turn on that day to "turn the wheel" of the Dharma by assuming that identity. That others had been selected before you to be THE Buddha on prior days when such was necessary. No pre-requisite that you have to pray all day or write a sutra to hold the role. How do you imagine you would react? How would you feel? About yourself? About the world around you? And we're not talking about giving an answer that sounds good or what you think someone ought to do or how someone ought to feel. What would THE Buddha of that day really be like?

Being at odds with your own optimism

Are you an optimist? Do you wish you were? Some people may not realize they are optimists deep down because of the popular image associated with such folks. A cheery disposition, full of energy, so saccharine sweet and perky and ready to face life. It's not nice to say, but sometimes those kinds of people really get on my nerves. I have tried being a pessimistic realist, and even a kind of half-glass "whatever!" type. But something else has occurred to me - a possibility I hadn't really considered. I might just be a closet optimist. No, no, not the bouncing out of bed for the joy of a new dawn kind of optimist. And maybe you aren't that kind either. No, you and I may be a different breed altogether. A reluctant optimist. An incredulous optimist. An annoyed optimist who is almost bitter at the bright little sun of hope glowing steadily and surely where your otherwise skeptical and snarky disposition would expect to find a dark hole of despair, or at the very least a somewhat worrying ball of nagging doubt.

It's a pretty neat trick really. Even after passing through the valley of the shadow of nihilistic narcissism, under the worries about daily affairs and other immediate concerns, the future looks so bright you've got to wear sunblock. You can't possibly imagine what there is to make you think that things will work out - maybe you are having trouble with debt, employment, serious relationships, or maybe all of those things at once. Maybe it's worse than that. By all rights, the most likely path seems to be one in which you are almost certain to face material and emotional trials and hardships. Yet your optimism isn't telling you none of these rough times will come to pass, but that it will be OK - it will be OK even as they come to pass and well after they are long gone. You can't just lie down and wait for the end - you can't even shout angry poetry at the absurdity of your own existence. Like it or not, you've got something to hold on to which is pulling you to a deeper and more fulfilling life. Even if you try (consciously or subconciously) shooting yourself in the foot or opting for a life of oblivious shallowness, you find that your self-sabotage and selfishness somehow work to move you back on track with additional insight and greater compassion. Maybe you don't want to believe because you have been disappointed so many times before, yet here you are being filled with hope again.

Man, life is great. Does that suck or what?

Little bird on my doorstep

When I got home there was a little bird sitting on the doorstep of my building. It wasn't standing and ready to hop or fly. It was sitting, as if in a nest. During the day the left side of the front double door is left open, and the little one was sitting right where the door would be if it closed. The other door is latched from the inside, so there was no way around the bird. I wondered if it was hurt, and I tried to look without getting too close. Eventually I stepped over it, and it flew up the stairs in a short burst. Seeing that I live upstairs, I waited for the bird to move again. Now there is nothing really too odd about a little bird behaving that way, and even odd behavior doesn't mean there is some hidden significance to such an occurrence. It's just a bird. Then there are those who take it as a glorious sign and manifestation precisely because it is a bird, and view that in and of itself as a sufficient wonder.

How do you see it?

Do you take notice of such things and have a deep sense of appreciation or are they relegated to the domain of casual observation?