More on spiritual homelessness

I don't have the time or energy to find and link all of the posts I've made here about my spiritual/religious indecisiveness, but they aren't hard to find with a scan through my blog. (You can find some recent examples here here here here and here.) I was discussing it a few weeks ago and attempted a straight-forward summary. You might find some of it familiar, or if not, perhaps it will help you understand other people a little better. Well-meaning suggestions are permited but I find they often reflect what the suggester needs/wants rather than might make sense to me. But that's OK.

So why do I hesitate? A major element is my own fear of making a bad choice and a general issue with indecisiveness. But is that it?

I think it boils down to seeking authenticity. It's born of a kind of a desire for (frustratingly) radical honesty. It (the religion and spirituality being discussed) all sounds nice but it's based on other people's reported experiences. If they are accurate, then my theology is really comprehensive and astute. And I have good reasons to believe the accuracy of certain people on these issues. Again, it's the lack of personal verification that sucks. I just can't buy it - any of it - otherwise. I spent twenty years calling myself a Christian but sensing incongruity and hypocrisy, a decade more as an agnostic/atheist which ultimately was too sterile, and another five studying and even practicing Buddhism. I am not looking to join a club or to find a label to wear. I've had my share.

In any case, this reminds me of something I once read. Basically, a student asked (paraphrasing): People seek rebirth in the Pure Land so they can be sure to attain enlightenment, but if the Pure Land isn't a literal place and is instead symbolic, then why not just go straight for enlightenment? Why seek to literally be reborn in an imaginary/metaphorical place? Here is part of the reply...

In truth, all the pure and impure lands in the ten directions are like dreams and illusions; however, only when we have attained the “Illusion-like Samadhi” can we see them as illusory and false. If we have not yet reached that stage, we will still see them as real, we are still subject to their sway, we will still know sorrow and happiness, we still feel uncomfortable during the summer heat and are even bothered by such small things as mosquito and ant bites. Thus, how can we speak about things being illusory? We should realize that the Pure Land method is a wonderful expedient of the Buddha, borrowing an illusory realm of happiness to help being escape from an illusory realm of great suffering, full of obstructing conditions and dangers. Them, from that happy, peaceful, illusory realm, cultivation progresses easily and the ever-silent realm of the True Mind is swiftly attained...

One more point to bear in mind: if we speak about the Truth of Emptiness without having attained that stage (or at least reached a certain level of achievement in our practice) we certainly cannot convert others but will only end up in useless arguments and disputes. (pp. 152)

Of the two types of attachments, to existence and to emptiness, the latter is very dangerous. Both the Lankavatara and the Esoteric Adornment Sutra state:

"It is better to be attached to existence, though attachment may be as great as Mount Sumeru, than to be attached to emptiness, though attachment may be as small as a mustard seed.”


Attachment to “existence” leads to mindfulness of cause and effect, wariness of transgressions and fear of breaking the precepts, as well as to Buddha and sutra recitation and performance of good deeds. Although these actions are bound to forms and not free and liberated, they are all conducive to merits, virtues, and good roots. On the other hand, if we are attached to emptiness without having attained True Emptiness, but refuse to follow forms and cultivate merits and virtues, we will certainly sink into the cycle of birth and death. (pp.153-154)

-excerpted from the comments of Master Thich Thien Tam in Pure Land Buddhism: Dailogs with Ancient Masters (from the section "Doubts & Questions about Pure Land")

In other words, it is one thing to start a practice believing literally in the metaphors and symbols (represented here as attachment to "existence"), and after long practice, come to move beyond the dichotomy of literal/symbolic based on having realized the Truth being pointed to in the tradition (represented here as attaining True Emptiness). But to just start saying "Oh, these are all just clever systems pointing to X", without ever having developed any genuine sense or appreciation of X beyond a dry and abstract conceptual level, you will then be "too clever" to really do the practices with sincerity, especially those where you need to "buy into" the imagery or the story (this cleverness represented here as attachment to "emptiness"). Hence you are actually #$^@* out of luck and would have been better off just believing in the literal view.

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?

Context and actualization

In conversations and discussions I have remarked that I don't believe in lazy people. That is, I don't think anyone is inherently lazy. They may not be focused on what others consider productive, but being unproductive in one area does not equate to a lack of effort in all areas. Take the person who skips class and misses work, who thinks that science and strategic planning are boring subjects. Yet this same person will work for hours on end, without resting or stopping to eat, trying to master a level in a video game. This person will explore in the game, make observations, and test different possibilities. This person will come up with a plan, and when it doesn't work, will note what went wrong and try again making a sensible adjustment, employing trial and error and experience until a satisfactory solution is found. The same areas of the brain are being used as one employs in designing and conducting an experiment or managing a planning session, so this "laziness" isn't about effort. It is about motivation.

For some, not wanting to fail at school or at a relationship, not wanting to get fired, not wanting to get yelled at, not wanting to be lonely or poor, or some other form of aversion is their primary motivating factor, but it often only gets just enough out of us to keep us from the unwanted consequences we would otherwise face. For some, praise or other kinds of reward (or at least the potential for gain) is their primary motivating factor, but greed also has its limitations in its capacity to inspire. Other than greed and aversion, the old carrot-and-stick approach, another possibility is feeling fulfilled - that you are doing something worthwhile and that it is making a difference. This is especially inspiring if you are good and what you are doing - it helps you to actually enjoy your circumstances and look forward to each new day. But one cannot simply fill out a form and expect to have their ideal circumstances for a fulfilling life arranged and delivered. Even with hard work, one may never come close to doing what they might feel they would be best suited to do.

One solution is to be happy where you are. To learn the art of gratefulness and make the best life you can out in the middle of whatever circumstances you may find yourself. The "make lemonade" approach. However, it seems like this might require the person to be somewhat grounded - rooted in something that allows them roll with the punches and stay upbeat in the face of seeming adversity. For some this is described as faith. We tend to follow that word with another - "in". Having faith in this, or faith in that. But whatever that anchor may be, what is important it is that is gives one permission to stop trying to control that which is beyond their control, to maintain a patient optimism.

So here is the rub. In the right context, we all can be really productive individuals who live up to their potential and lead deeply satisfying lives. However, we are often limited in our ability to control the context in which we find ourselves, at least in terms of our external environment. Hence to help us achieve actualization as human beings, we must be willing and able to change some other aspect of our context. But many of us aren't really sure how to do that.

I know for a fact that in some circumstances I find it MUCH easier to think of ideas, get my work done, be friendly, be active, etc, and in others I just don't seem to have the energy or will to do more than slog through the day in a numb to semi-painful fashion full of dullness and discomfort. I know that my reaction to external circumstances is an internal event, and that technically it is possible have the same reaction, the same attitude, the same mental and emotional perspective, without having to have the same external stimuli. That is, to keep that more energetic and positive attitude in a different set of circumstances. But like most of us, that isn't what happens. It's like the song says - "When you're smiling, the whole world smiles with you..."

So what is the world like when you are feeling like a pointless shadow that has no real significance?

Nor is it just a matter of rose-colored glasses. "Oh, she is an optimist so she just SEES potential." It goes the other way too! "She is an optimist so she is able to perceive potential." That is, we miss a great deal of what is going on in the world because our reality is tightly bound up in our expectations. If you don't allow for some things to be credible or possible in your perspective, you will almost certainly fail to notice them (or you may minimize them, trivialize them, deny them, etc) and fulfill your own expectations. And you cannot necessarily (ever?) force yourself to change such expectations - you have to come to genuinely believe in a new perspective. Even if you suspect or are fairly certain that you are wrong and really want to adopt that new view of existence, some small thing, some little hindrance deep in your subconscious, can hold you back. Some social and behavioral scientists have suggested people are more likely to be open to such changes if they spend a significant amount of time around people with particular beliefs - we tend to adapt ourselves to the local conventional cultural perspective - but even that does not always work.

So that raises an interesting question for those pursuing to reorder and re-evaluate the context of their lives, particularly those seeking to do so through the practice of sacred traditions. How do you generate sincerity for such practice? Enthusiasm? Or the kind of faith mentioned before? Do you need to catch a glimpse of something greater? Of a genuine depth to one's life and all of existence? That is, a glimpse of "the Divine", of "Buddha-nature", of "Christ-consciousness"? And how does that happen? Is it an act of grace bestowed on the patient seeker? Or does it sometimes strike those who wouldn't have sought it out purposefully in a million years or a thousand life-times? Or, in simpler terms often asked of spiritual teachers and guides:

How will I know?

What should I do?


(And no, I am not offering any answers...)

What soothes you when you are freaking out?

Or when you are really nervous, upset, or angry? I mean, honestly, debating the nature of the Divinity of Christ or discussing the implications of emptiness for everyday life are NOT really going to make you feel better when you are panicked. Suddenly, a lot of the little phrases people sometimes toss around ("It's OK, even what you're going through now is impermanent...")can sound crass and grating rather than insightful or compassionate. People don't need an intellectual Dharma lesson, they need a practical one (such a well-timed hug or thoughtfully placed pat on the shoulder or even eye contact that shows you care and are concerned). So, when you become really distraught or overwrought, not just a little upset or a little out of sorts - what helps bring you out of it and calm you down? (And, by extension, what do you do for others who are similarly overwhelemed by their current perceptions and circumstances - in all honesty and with triteness aside, What would Jesus or the Buddha do?)

Life shatters you

"Life does not accommodate you; it shatters you. Every seed destroys its container, or else there would be no fruition."

-Florida Scott-Maxwell

An interesting quote to contemplate when reflecting on growth, emptiness, disappointment, and gratitude. One of the many amazing quotes from the Word of the Day email by Gratefulness.org. This one was sent on Dec 12, 2007.

Some of my more serious attachments

Buddhists often talk about attachment, and it's often done with little real appreciation of what these may be. At least that's true for me. There is always someone ready with an intellectual answer. Here is a good one: One of the primary delusions is that we have an intrinsic existence (unchanging, isolated reality), and so there is a sense of incompletion, that we need to become, that we need to achieve, that there is a hole in our very being that needs to be filled. We are not conscious of this hole, but it manifests through a craving for those things that in some deep-rooted way we feel will complete us. "If only I could..." or "When I am able to..." (fill in the blank) then I could be happy or at peace. This isn't to say goals or accomplishments are bad. It is how they arise and how we react to them. There are many things we can indeed "do" or wish to do that are not in any way concerned with the Buddhist view of attachment, but many things we desire are in fact rooted in this sense of a need to "find something" or "get somewhere" to be whole. When one realizes that they are empty (no intrinsic existence, but rather always changing) and that they are a part of a greater whole that is in a perpetual act of mutual creation (that would be the teaching of dependent coarising), then one sees that the "hole" is a construct of the mind that is false. They are, in that ultimate sense, already complete. They don't need to become, they already are. So those deep-seated cravings related to trying to be complete or connected are rooted in a delusion, and with that delusion exposed, those cravings lose their sway. That is one intellectual version of what attachments, or cravings, are supposed to be, both how they arise and how they can lose their influence over our lives. But again, that gives little real appreciation for what attachments actually are. Until you have started really seeing them, like strings on a puppet moving you about as conditions in your life appear to change, it's a totally inadequate depiction. And, of course, it's even harder to see that, in fact, their are no strings (yes, it is a bit reminscent of the "no spoon" line from that Zennish motion picture). When one is/is in the realization, rather than anticipating it or acknowledging after the fact, there is nothing to hinder or become hindered by.

So, I keep reminding myself over and over, and over again, seeing a tendency that "I" would otherwise call "mine", causing what "I" would otherwise call an "affliction", disturbing what "I" would other wise call "my mind". Over and over...

No pride
No shame
No praise
No blame

"Oh am I not clever?"

"Geez, I'm so lame."

"I'm worthless."

"I've done way more that him."

"I'll never be as good as that."

"That person is so inconsiderate (i.e. I wouldn't be that way, I am superior)."

"You can't say that to me."

Don't give rise to pride.
Don't give rise to shame.
Don't be swayed by praise.
Don't be swayed by blame.

Hence...

No pride.
No shame.
No praise.
No blame.

Don't get caught up in worthy and unworthy, help or hindrance.

Though I haven't read or meditated on it in a while, I am reminded of the Chan poem, "Faith in Mind". If you've never read it, it's worth the effort. If you have, it's worth reading again ;o)

Here are some links to different translations:

Here.

There.

And yonder.

Verses for contemplation on 10-27-06

All alone, or in twos,
the ones who really love you
walk up and down outside the wall.

Some hand in hand,
and some gathered together in bands.
The bleeding hearts and artists
make their stand.

And when they've given you their all
some stagger and fall, after all it's not easy,
banging your heart against some mad bugger's wall.

-Roger Waters/Pink Floyd, "Outside the Wall", from the album The Wall

I love you, you love me...

"True happiness comes not from a limited concern for one's own well-being, or that of those one feels close to, but from developing love and compassion for all sentient beings." - cited recently on the Amida-shu member blog "lotusinthemud" from The Dalai Lama: A Policy of Kindness

I posted a comment on that blog, but then I was thinking about this topic, and I figure in addition to plugging a great blog like lotusinthemud, I should make my mea culpa regarding this Buddhist principle (slightly more) visible...

Not to sound like a downer, but I think most of us see that teaching as an intellectually appealing philosophy, but actually realizing it - embodying it - I dunno, I'll admit, I have yet to do it. Trying to summon feelings of compassion or empathy, I may direct it towards myself, people I like, people I don't like, and people I have no real knowledge of, then a generalized "humanity", etc, but it's just a feeble effort. I barely scratch the surface of true compassion, then snap right back to my limited selfish little view of the world for most of my daily affairs. It's a healthy practice I suppose but it can leave me feeling really inadequate.
Then there is another way of looking at it - with a nod to some of the teachings of the Flower Garland school, or the idea of Indra's net, and other examples (from Pure Land, Chan, Nichiren, etc etc) - that a genuine moment of compassion, even a small one, directed towards even a single sentient being, reflects and echos throughout the cosmos. The light of all Buddhas and Bodhisattva's shine through us in that moment, a dazzling display of the heart of the world.

So how about you?

Tough love, bleeding heart

It's all Nacho's fault. Really. He had to go and post a provocative topic over at his award-winning blog Woodmoor Village Zendo entitled "Are you a Buddhist?" I was thinking about the difference between "being a Buddhist", "being a Buddhist", and "being a Buddhist".

Anyone, at least in the West, can shave their head. Or wear a robe. Or learn some liturgical materials. You can find a Sangha somewhere, most likely, where you can take refuge, take your precepts, or even start on the path to ordination. You can get some beads, puts your hands together in gassho, read and memorize portions of sutras, and even engage in debates over the history and philosophy of different forms of Buddhism. Maybe even become a vegetarian. These things all sound very Buddhist, I suppose.

Then there are the affectations. These may be real or just the perception of others when looking at self-proclaimed Buddhists. There is the "I love everything Asian" type who eats, sleeps, and breathes the culture from which their tradition arose to the point where they even develop a foreign accent. There is the Zombie-Buddhist, who may simply be a nihilist slacker hiding behind the austere image of supposedly "Zen-like" passionless indifference (what some have labeled attachment to non-attachment). And of course we can't forget the wimpy ninny. Nor are any of these behaviors or affectations necessarily mutually exclusive.

To what degree these behaviors and stereotypes are legitimate, or legitimately "Buddhist", is something others can argue about if they wish.

Still, I was thinking about the image projected onto (and possibly by?) Buddhists in some quarters as being wimpy. I think it may come from failing to parse "weak" and "meek" in the sense that it is one thing to forgive or be patient when you are in a position of perceived powerlessness and when you display such qualities from a position of strength. I don't know how many people who wear little Buddha pendants, who chant mantras, or who read Tricycle are or are not, in fact, wimpy ninnies or nihilistic egoists. I certainly don't have any right to cast the first stone at the glass house I call home. But, in my (needs to be more) humble opinion, there is nothing sissified or wuss-like about learning to surrender to, realize, accept, and promote boundless compassion.

It's so easy to say or think that if someone is advocating "Love, love, love" that she or he must be an idealistic weenie who needs a dose of the cold, hard, and harsh nature of reality. But that's just it. The Buddhist path is not one of shutting yourself off from the world, or transcending it in these sense of ignoring it or not caring about it. I've written before, as have many others, that it is quite the opposite. In the Mahayana tradition, for example, the Bodhisattva ideal involves learning to hear the cries of the world, to see and truly appreciate the nature of suffering. You are not building up walls, you are tearing them down and making yourself even more open to the circumstances which tend to buffet people about emotionally and mentally. Liberation comes from facing the causes of suffering - birth, sickness and injury, old age, and death - not from hiding from them. You don't just get a "dose" of reality - you get the whole thing.

Cultivating love, loving-kindness, metta - whatever name you prefer - in the face of such exposure to the best and the worst in humanity, for all of humanity, for all sentient beings - THAT is tough. Tough love. But you keep going - learning to allow, learning to accept, learning to appreciate. There is a popular imagery of doing something so long, so hard, and with such extreme resolve, that you are said to do it "until you bleed". This is a powerful image because A) blood is equated with life and vitality and our most intimate and precious resource(s) and B) many types of repetitious physical activities wear and crack the skin until the person does literally bleed. As Spike says in a memorable line from an episode of Buffy: "{I}t's always got to be blood... Blood is life. It's what keeps you going. Makes you warm. Makes you hard. Makes you other than dead."

Ironically, Christians should (and hopefully many due) understand this better than anyone - according to their theology and view of history, Christ was meek, loved everyone, and embraced pain and the suffering of all, born from that love, in order to save them. According the the Gospels, he loved 'til he bled.

So, then, do (many) Buddhists have bleeding hearts? Of course. You keep loving. You love until you bleed.


*caveat: sometimes i see how hard it's going to be and i hesitate or stumble... i am not trying to boast here that i am always living up to what i am discussing... don't mind the bruises on my palms or the scraped knees... :o)

Bodhi-er than thou

Ever feel that way?

With all the ways in which I try to convey my humility, to point out that what I write here isn't meant to be taken as a dharma talk from a wise sage, that mostly when I use "we" I am mostly referring to "me", etc., I still sometimes feel like am being pious or Bodhi-er (or simply bodhier) than thou. It's like, "Oh, I see, that post on the other blog is clearly from someone who hasn't grasped teaching A/B/C", or even looking at my own stuff I think "What pompous jerk is spouting these gems of the amazingly obvious?" And I it isn't limited to Buddhism and blogging. I judge people harshly all the time. Of course we tend to sweep such thoughts away or try to replace them, perhaps not even admitting they were ever there. But denial isn't the answer. As a limited karmic being, though I aspire for generosity and equanamity, I sometimes can truly suck at being fair or balanced. May I learn to view myself and myself through the eyes of a Buddha. And for that I need honesty about myself and others, not inflated self-delusion.

Nice day

I got very worked up today. Had something important to do. Extremely important. And... Everything went well! Very very well. Man I can't believe it well. Party time, yelling "Oh yeah!" well. S-U-C-C-E-S-S.

Yet for most of the day I was still very worked up. How odd. Not just the physiology of getting worked up (it can take a while for the parasympathetic system to get off of anxiety mode), but the fact that I had what by all accounts should, in fact, be considered a successful day. Yet there was still worry that it *wasn't* a success. Despite my scrupulous preparation, checking my work repeatedly, checking it again, checking it again... And it was still fine. Still OK. But I kept having this phantom feeling from time to time today as if I were going to get an email or phone call in which I was told that in fact my success was just a mistake and it's going to be taken back and replaced with some kind of shameful failure. I can hear it now--"Oh yes, well, we were just being polite, but in good conscience we really ought to penalize you, not reward you. Everything you did was wrong and it's a joke you thought it was any good." Yeah, right.

I have met this personal demon before. In fact I know it so well we send each other birthday cards and take vacations together. It's the fear of failure. It's a fear that can become so intense that at times it's actually preferable to fail or give up rather than to keep trying. What's truly sadistic about it is that it grows with success, which may seem counterintuitive. Let me explain. When you succeed, it tells you that you got lucky, or someone had pity on you, etc. It *wasn't* your hard work, talent, or skills. When you reach the next level of success or milestone of accomplishment, it gets worse because the odds that you will keep "getting lucky" over and over are becoming smaller and smaller. Sooner or later the streak will end, and then it will be clear to everyone that you were incompetent all long. If this still doesn't make sense, think of fear of heights instead. It's no big deal to fall two feet. But what about ten feet? Twenty? One hundred? Five hundred? The higher you climb, the bigger the fall and the more intense the fear of heights becomes.

Over the years I really became fed up with this little imp of over-exaggerated self-doubt whispering in my ear. We all have something that causes us to worry, a particular vulnerability where we are most likely to be buffeted by the circumstances of life. Mine told me I would flunk out my first year of grad school. It told me that I would fail my language requirement. That I would fail my comps. That I would be laughed out of my overview. That I could never successfully complete my project. That I would be humiliated at my defense. Plus many many more predictions that have all been shown to be incorrect. I never believed it. It was absurd. And yet it still had the power, on ocassion, to make me nervous or upset. That really bugged me, to actually *feel* the slightest discomfort over something so lame. I ignored it repeatedly even though it had been a very loud presence at times. For a while the effect it produced had been getting weaker and weaker, and in fact I believed at one point that it was gone. Then out of the blue today, the same familiar sickening feeling. Or almost the same.

It's not gone. It's just powerless. It shrieks and shrieks, but it's lost its influence. No doubt, no worry. Sure, I can feel concern creeping in and this heavy weight trying to make me depressed, but it no longer simply drags me down. Rather than a loudspeaker that blairs its unhappy tune it's just background noise which can (with effort) be tuned out. In fact, my reaction was more of a reflex than a genuine response to the taunting by my own personal boogey-man. Much like smelling a particular perfume and then being taken back a decade or two to some event that you hadn't thought of in years. The stress level simply triggered and associated response, but upon examination a very hollow one. And like jumping during a scary movie, I feel a little silly afterward.

So why bring this up? Because realizing I am no longer unduly affected by the fear of failure is an extra reason for celebrating! And because I am sure that there are other people out there who have had the same anxiety. It's not the kind of thing that is necessarily debilitating to the point where it inteferes with your ability to have normal relationships or hold a job, though it can be quite miserable at times; impairment, not mood, is the litmus test for whether one's behavior is just eccentric or whether it should be medically diganosed. But at the same time it's not always just a bit of hearburn or a nagging doubt--for some people this fear can transform into terror. This is one of those fears that many of us have and that some of us have to a more extreme degree, but not quite bad enough to count as an official illness. It's the kind of thing that may only become noticeable under periods of extreme stress, when a person is likely to act and feel miserable anyway.

Here's my advice: You can never accomplish enough to satisy the little bugger trying to bring you down. Never. Don't try. Just keep pushing through. Find supportive people. You might feel stupid because even though you intellectually realize the faulty reasoning behind your fear, you keep feeling the anxiety anyway. Don't. You can't help being anxious. Just keep going. Keep acting like you are good enough, whether or not you feel like it. Keep trying your best, even when you're sure your best is a pile of crap. Just keep pushing through. Although he wasn't talking specifically about fear of failure, I think Sensei Ogui says it best in his book Zen Shin Talks when referring to rising through the storm clouds of life. The clouds may be blocking your view of the blue sky, but it's still there--

"Go through and through and through, and you will enjoy the blue sky."

I'm sailing in the blue sky today and it feels pretty damn good.

Uhhh...is this thing on

"Do not wait for Life. Do not Long for it.
Be aware, Always and at every moment,
that the Miracle is in the here and now"
--Marcel Proust

In the corporate news today: Britain's Labour Party has won an unprescedented third term; the Pentagon says that satellite photos may indicate that North Korea may be preparing to test a nuclear weapon; an astronomer may have taken a picture showing the wreckage of NASA's Mars Polar Lander which was lost six years ago.

The sun is done for the day, and what a warm sunny day it was. At this moment the house is silent except for the clicking and tapping of my fingers on the keyboard.

Well, unfortunately I missed my weekly Buddhist meeting this week after having gotten off to a 16-straight start. On the other hand, now I don't have to feel pressure over maintaining "the streak". But it does call to mind an issue I have wondered about since before I even started attending a weekly Buddhist practice. I have read many books by deep spiritualists and mystics, from a variety of traditions within Buddhism as well as outisde of Buddhism. The Dalai Lama, Thich Nat Hahn, Koshin Ogui, Jiddu Krishnamurti, Eckhart Tolle, and Brother Wayne Teasdale, just to name a few. I have read again and again about the importance of deep awareness, surrender to the eternal now, living in the moment not for the moment, and on and on. I am familiar with the variety of ways which are recommended for reaching this state, not by doing but by being. That's all well and good. And now I have been regularly practicing in a spiritual tradition for about four months. Now that's not really that long, but it's a good chunk for a novice.

So then, why is it I haven't experienced even a slight encounter with the kind of presence of moment I keep reading about? I deliberately chose the word experienced to recognize that the "moment" is always there whether I am able to appreciate it or not. I've read so many descriptions from so many traditions of people who have, even briefly, experienced such a mystical unity with their world. It typically is described in terms of being amazed at how real everything becomes, as if a new depth or dimension had been revealed. Everything appears new--it's as if the people who have such an experience are seeing the world for the first time as it really is. It is, by all accounts, quite a powerful and unmistakeable experience. I'm very sure I have no conscious memory of such an experience.

Is it possible that some people are just not capable of such awareness?