Silent Musings

Just for fun, OK? Don’t take it personally.

awakening = sudden realization that i’m better than other people.
present = thinking that being here is a special achievement.
namaste = i’m too cool to say “hello”.
mindful = trying too hard to impress.
manifest = take credit where no credit is due.
spiritual = has a hardened belief system.
advaita = replacing your version of duality with mine.
ego = my excuse for acting like an a**hole.
karma = justification for my failures, and retribution for my enemies’ failures.
practice = getting high on the cheap.
God = someone please give me the answer.
enlightenment = fantasy meets reality.
heaven/hell = country club/prison for those who agree/disagree with me.
divine = that which truly is better.
guru = someone whose wisdom I exhalt and whose faults I ignore.
devotion = begging at the feet of my lord and/or guru for spiritual goodies.
om = the first and last symbol of hypocrisy.
tantra = ecstatic union of eastern mysticism and western indulgence.
zen = too cool to make sense.

Man: God, if you can hear me, please answer my prayer. I’m desperate to discover your true nature.

God: …

Man: Please, God! I don’t know how long I can take this. I’ve meditated for over 30 years, and still, nothing. Can you please show me a sign?

God: …

Man: God, why have you forsaken me? You reveal yourself to others, but not to me. Can you please show me, just this once? That’s all I ask.

God: …

Man: This is hopeless. I need a drink.

God: (thinking to himself) How much more clear and obvious can I be?! This is hopeless. I need a drink.

It is difficult to write when one has no frame of reference from which to speak. No map, no truth, nothing of which to be certain, no experience that connects to any other in any logical way. There is a distinct connection in every moment, but it is perplexingly self-referential, yet simulaneously all encompassing.

What else can I say? You had to be there? Except that there isn’t any “there” there. Maybe one day I’ll have something more to say, or maybe “I” will simply disappear into the Beautiful empty pages that emanate from the Heart.

What kind of work
Can I do in this world?

Who would be kind enough
To hire an old holy Bum,

One with a great reputation
For loving the charms
Of the lawless
And the wild artists and the lewd?

Maybe I could become a poet.

Maybe the Beloved
Will make my love so Pure

That He will come to sit upon
All my Beautiful empty pages.
And when you come to look at them,

He might kick you
With His Beautiful Divine Foot.

- Hafiz

Something quite extraordinary, yet at the same time so utterly ordinary happened during morning meditation yesterday. Spontaneously and without any effort whatsoever, the spiritual seeker that had inhabited this body-mind since its birth drew its last breath and died of natural causes. It all happened to the tune of the song, Que Será, Será (Whatever will be, will be), the once popular tune featured, ironically enough, in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1956 classic, The Man Who Knew Too Much. As it played in consciousness during sitting meditation, the lyrics had been curiously altered to Que Está, Está (Whatever is, is). By some act of Grace, this phrase turned out to be the last catalyst required for the release of the seeker’s bond.

When such an event occurs, one can easily be perplexed by the apparent contradictions conjured up by the experience of it. There is a release into total liberation, and at the same time, no change at all from the state of human bondage. One is completely free to be trapped in the delusion that is human life. There is the sense that this is a uniquely rare occurrence, and yet the direct knowledge that it is also universally common, and only missed by so many because it is too obvious to see. One feels at once certain that this is the end of the path, and yet also that it is only the beginning. This is what one has always wanted, and yet, nothing has been attained, and it is not at all what one expected to find.

The seeker’s path is defined by the desire to achieve a state that is not this - whether it means liberation, enlightenment, or any other fancy spiritual term or picture that one has in mind. Often, these images are interpretations of what we read, or perhaps hear from our teachers and spiritual friends. Looking back, it is not surprising that the goals held in this mind of what seeking might bring were never once fulfilled. Never, ever. This path was one of total and complete failure. It was also a pathless path, in the sense that it can never be repeated, nor should it be. Each journey is unique, and yet ultimately ends up back at the beginning. Back to this.

In the end, when seeking is done, one can only be certain of one thing - That I Am, I Am That, and That Is All There Is. After morning meditation, the dishes in the sink left over from the previous night’s meal sat waiting, looking back at themselves as they were being hand-washed, one by one. Each one a baby Buddha to be adored, each one as simple and plain as the dishwasher, each one returning the love and careful attention they received from their owner.

Reality can neither be proved nor disproved. Within the mind you cannot, beyond the mind you need not. In the real, the question, “what is real?” does not arise. The manifested and unmanifested are not different.

I am all. As myself all is real. Apart from me, nothing is real.

-Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj, from I Am That

Photo source: http://www.cinemasterpieces.com/manwhooct05.jpg

Those of us who have picked up and read a book or two about spiritual cultivation have most certainly encountered the term “letting go” in this context, and almost as certainly thought that we knew what it meant when we read it. Right? It’s a very simple idea, after all. However, although it’s quite straightforward conceptually, I’m fairly certain that when we first encounter it, most of us have nowhere near an accurate picture in our minds of what letting go actually entails. I know that I didn’t.

The reason for this misunderstanding is quite simple. Until letting go actually occurs, there is a fundamental context in place that is in search of some personal benefit as an outcome of the process. Whether we want freedom from the knots that bind us, or to reach some higher ecstatic planes of consciousness, or to find our ideal tantric lover, or any other of a number of ego-centered desires, those motives are always there, lurking beneath the surface. The most insidious of these is the one in which we are exhalted above all others, the perfect saint to be loved and revered. We may tell ourselves that this isn’t our wish, but let’s get real here. It comes in many forms - perhaps you want to be the foremost object of love for “The One”, your soulmate and lover. Or to be admired by your friends and family, or even your children. Or maybe you have grander plans and wish to be singled out by an entire flock of devotees. The experience of separation that is so fundamental to our existence here on planet Earth has no alternative than to manifest as such desires.

Until we tell ourselves the truth about our desires, we are slaves to them. Looking back over my life, the question of good, better, or best, of being loved and admired has stalked me like a horny labrador after a bitch in heat. Sure, I’ve managed to loosen the grip it has on me somewhat, but even in its subtle forms there is an absoluteness to it. An undeniable holding on to that sense of identity-existence.

Letting go here is a radical step, and cannot possibly be understood in terms of its consequences and meaning. It can only be experienced, and even then, any interpretation that we assign to it is a fool’s escapade. Confusion, boredom, fear, even terror, are completely appropriate companion emotions on this journey. The only reason we keep going forward is that it would be even more unbearable to stop or to turn back. We desperately want to surrender, but to what?! There is nothing and nobody to which or to whom to surrender.

And yet, despite all the mixed feelings, we continue to creep ever so slowly and cautiously toward our destiny, hoping somehow, we can preserve something of ourselves in the end, to enjoy our ultimate triumph. The play of God is quite comic, I must say.