A good friend just sent me a short text (see below, I've chosen to include it here integrally for clearer reference) stating that the Prime Minister of Sri Lanka is concerned against the usage of Buddha statues in a chain of food and entertainment venues deemed Buddha Bar. His concern is that the Buddha statues are set in a context where alcohol is consumed and dancing takes place.
My objective throughout the body of this post is to explain, in my opinion, which are the positive and negative aspects of this question, while trying to perhaps give some more context to why this question was raised in the first place.
"Newspaper reports here say the prime minister is seeking details on the nature of the Buddha Bar chain, which is based in Paris and appears to have branches in other cities including Dubai, New York and Sharm el-Sheikh in Egypt. The trendy and expensive restaurants feature large statues of Lord Buddha. The prime minister's concern appears to be that alcohol is consumed or dancing takes place in front of the statues, both activities which many
Sri Lankans deem disrespectful in the religious context. If so, the prime minister wants to "take necessary action" against the bars but it's not clear what this would entail. The issue has already proved controversial in Indonesia, which has a Buddha Bar outlet in the capital. Members of the Buddhist minority and even a government minister have asked that it change
its name or close down, but neither has happened. The Sri Lankan government is sensitive about the majority faith here and recently the international rap singer, Akon, was forced to cancel a concert here because one of his videos shows a swimming pool party flanked by a Buddha statue. But a prominent Sri Lankan blogger has criticised the government attitude, calling the prime minister's comments an "empty threat" designed to bolster the
country's image as an island of Buddhism surrounded by Hinduism and Islam.// The blogger commented that many Westerners are interested in Buddhism because, in his words, "it's perceived as being above the petty squabbles and offences of other religions". The government may be gratified, however, to hear that the recession recently forced the London
branch of Buddha Bar to close down.
Prime Minister D. M. Jayaratne has sought information on a Restaurant\Bar chain located in several countries called the ‘Buddha Bar’ in a bid to see whether they were openly abusing Buddhism.
The Premier who is also the Buddhist and Religious Affairs Minister has instructed his Secretary to seek a report in this regard from Sri Lankan embassies.
The Prime Minister’s office reported that they had received information that these restaurants which serve liquor to customers in the presence of Buddha statues existed in the US, UK, France etc.
Details on their activities have been published on the Internet, they added.
Following the revelation, the Premier had instructed authorities to look into the matter and if found to be true, inform the Governments with the intervention of the External Affairs Ministry, to take steps to prevent such inappropriate use of Buddha statues.
The Prime Minister also expects to bring the issue to the attention of the World Buddhist Council."
I can see the validity of Sri-Lankan Prime Minister's argument, especially if he is someone that, as we Buddhists tend to say, has tasted the Dhamma.
When one has profound meditative experiences one's perception of world and self changes substantially. When this happens, as the direct result of applying the Buddha's teachings to one's life, one spontaneously begins to deeply treasure both the teachings, the Buddha and those that have sustained, expanded and nurtured these teachings safe for so many centuries. Sacredness is therefore temporal, contextual and, perhaps most importantly, directly experiential.
In this, I believe I comprehend how a fellow Buddhist might feel. For the Buddha was a man of incredible inner strength, something I feel only truly enlightened beings can truly understand (for they share it, at least to some extent). For the rest of us, the vision we have is much less clearer and therefore our perception of the Buddha tends to be based on hearsay, tradition, religion or indirect knowledge.
And, because of this, we miss the true sacredness, not only of the Buddha but also of all enlightened beings.
So, it is quite natural (especially for those of us not born in some sort of Buddhist tradition) for us to look upon a statue of the Buddha and see it perhaps more as a decorative element rather than a symbol of true sacredness.
Now I don't think that there's nothing necessarily wrong with this. It's a lack of cultural context, simply put.
However, I also feel that the core of the Buddhist teachings is the practice itself rather than any other external symbolism. I think the Buddha himself was very clear on this. His compassion was in his concern towards others. He knew that images are ultimately a distraction from the ultimate goal of meditation but that, in the earlier stages of the practice, they can be one of the supports towards the development of one's eightfold faculties.
My belief is that, if the Buddha were alive he would understand with an open heart someone's usage of his own image for commercial purposes. And he would continue to do his work of liberation for all beings.
I roughly agree with what the blogger that said that Buddhism is "perceived as being above the petty squabbles and offences of other religions".
Even though I don't agree so much with the wording he employed, I believe I've grasped the general intention for its using.
For me Buddhism's fundamental difference is that it focuses more in bringing to the world a method, a practice that allows each and everyone of us to come nearer to the non-dual experience that is at the heart of the human being. This is the thing perhaps most of us should be looking for. The thing most of us are in fact looking for - albeit in perhaps skewed ways.
Therefore each issue that confronts Buddhism should be seen from this light, from the light of compassion and non-duality.
I think it is important for us to differentiate between the teachings themselves and perhaps our attachment to them.
From another perspective I think we can confidently say that the image of the Buddha is one of the very few that the vast majority of human beings alive today can recognise and identify. It's not only obvious but inevitable that this image will be used for all manner of purposes. It is not owed by anyone. Even if some of us might cherished it incredibly, others definitely will not.
Some will perhaps even hate it. It doesn't matter. I think that there are bigger issues at hand.
Like how to remain compassionate in societies where humans are highly competitive and aggressive towards one another.
How to take care of the teachings and pass them on to future generations.
And, how can we ourselves become better human beings.
If these things are being observed then the the misuse of images isn't even a problem.
In fact we can even see this whole problem from a completely different perspective- We can see it as a celebration.
If for a long time now people have deified the image of the Buddha, well, I believe that I'm not too far of ins stating that, as culture changes, deification changes also.
To put it simply, that we are doing it again.
And that we are doing it through the eyes and tools of contemporary culture.
Thus, our deification comes through consumerism, perhaps the world's biggest religion these days.
In fact we might even say that this is a good sign. A sign that Buddhism is so present in current times, throughout the world, that somebody somewhere even thought that having a chain of restaurants/bars with the name Buddha would be good for business.
It means that Buddha and Buddhism are a recognised and recognisable part of our society. They are known.
And this is good. After all with obscurantism comes forgetfulness, comes a greater likelihood of the teachings being lost.
Of course with widespread knowledge comes everything else. Comes the preservation of values but also their distortion.
It's a natural consequence, nothing more.
Besides, we can always hope that, at least some of those that will enter the Buddha Bars for simple enjoyment, may perhaps leave a bit more curious about Buddha and Buddhism.
Perhaps even a few of those will read some Wikipedia entry about these things.
Perhaps a smaller fraction even will engage in the study and practice of the teachings and have their life transformed by them.
And who will be able to say that the Buddha Bar was a bad thing then?
On a more practical note we can also say that we will never be able to track down each improper usage of Buddhist imagery. I think it's somewhat pointless to even try and go out into the world and do that. I think we have more to lose by opposing one's freedom of using imagery that belongs to no one and all than we might possibly gain by doing so.
We must not forget that Buddhist imagery has been witness to many good and bad things throughout these 25 centuries. And it is likely that they will continue to do so.
If anything let's us take these things in the spirit of the Buddha. In the spirit of what he taught and struggled so hard to give to people, to help people achieve for their own benefit and that of all beings.
To take these matters with compassion and understanding, promoting a right, holystic, wholesome view.
Let us replace confrontation with compassion.
Let us be Buddhists.
Wednesday 30 June 2010
Tuesday 29 June 2010
A Time For Everything
The more you meditate the more meditative your attitude towards life will be. During the last few days I have been meditating more than usual. And I've kept catching myself doing things only semi-alert (what we call the normal state of consciousness, the non-awakened state) to them - the usual.
But, because I have been meditating more, I have been able to retain some measure of concentration after that moment of awareness. For a few seconds my mind stops chattering and begins paying attention to the little things that fill our lives.
Just a few minutes ago I was taking a shower. One of those showers that you thank the universe for the experience. Today has been a very warm day here in London and I cycled, quite relaxedly though, for about half an hour, from work. I was sweaty and warm and just wanted to get in the tub and feel the water falling all over me.
And when I did I suddenly realised the soft but deep pleasure I was having. The body relaxing from the exercise, the mind relaxed for me being home, and the warm feeling of becoming cleaner, lighter, freer. I observed the mental chatter and it disappeared.
And I immersed on the physical sensations invading me at each moment. A huge beautiful symphony that I barely could keep track of. I didn't try to. I just allowed my frail consciousness to flow, just like water, through the plethora of experiences coming to me.
And, after a few seconds of mental silence a thought came to me. An insight. The realisation that, as a child this type of awareness was much more common than it tends to be these days. At least, I believe this is the case for most of us. As children, because we have less mental constructs in our heads, our minds sometimes, spontaneously, shut up and we're simply there, peacefully observing. Being.
In a flash I realised that we lose this with time, as we become increasingly obsessed with time itself. With meaning. With knowing. With this experience or the next or the previous or some other, somewhere in the past, perhaps coming towards us from the future. With fantasy.
In one way or another children seem to naturally retain this openness of perception, before objectives and all manner of wantings come into place.
I recalled the words of a friend of mine that keeps reminding people around him that "There's a time for everything".
I agree with this. I think it's important to become aware of the age in life we are traversing so that we can fulfil in harmony with our capabilities.
And then be able to let it go and move on to the next.
I think he, like myself, has observed many times people that are still stuck to a particular age that they feel they have not lived completely. This may happen through longing for those times long gone. Or through hatred towards those times (or even those living that age themselves).
Living in a way that we are flowing with the time present in us is easy but also difficult. For it's rare to find reliable guides to help us find footing where we stand.
Most of the times, we end up having to figure it all out by ourselves. This is not only tiring and incredibly complex but also difficult to achieve.
To my mind this should be the main role of those with greater experience than ourselves. Usually this means people older than us, people that have crossed the times we are traversing already, that can see where we stand from the vantage point of their distance.
Of course, these days particularly, things aren't that easy. Things keep changing around us and, young or old, we all struggle in one way or another to keep up with the changes we see around us.
This much is clear...
We cannot stop the world. Perhaps nor should we want to.
But the one thing we know we can incredibly influence is ourselves.
Therefore it is important to find those that can guide us through the unfolding of our-selves.
Which kind of brings me back to the beginning of this. For these people (we can call them spiritually minded - even if they don't believe in spirituality themselves, simply by being interested in their actions, in their beings and their relation with things around them, they are already being spiritual and spiritual beings - that is, to me at least, the core of spirituality, uncovering the true extension of self), these spiritual people, will have lessons learned, stories to tell, ideas to teach, advisable practices and, above all, the experience of their years and the examples of their lives to share.
(and I think this is the role we all should represent to one another too... everybody has something to learn and something to teach - sometimes even they are the same thing, only from perhaps different perspectives)
But, in order for us to benefit from this wealth of knowledge, we must learn how to be present. I usually say, learn how to listen. And listening, to me, is a full being thing. When you listen you listen with the wholeness of you - not just the ears.
Using just the ears is like saying that cycling is pedalling.
And I think that we all know what will happen if we only pedal and don't pay attention to traffic, use the handle bars or even sit properly...
For this we need to be present.
So, and in conclusion, for us to truly be present in this time and age of ours we need to retain awareness of what's happening. We need to be insightful into the now. We need to be present.
Then, perhaps not only we'll fulfil each time, one moment at a time, but perhaps we will feel that each time, each moment, is already full. That each moment is already everything.
But, because I have been meditating more, I have been able to retain some measure of concentration after that moment of awareness. For a few seconds my mind stops chattering and begins paying attention to the little things that fill our lives.
Just a few minutes ago I was taking a shower. One of those showers that you thank the universe for the experience. Today has been a very warm day here in London and I cycled, quite relaxedly though, for about half an hour, from work. I was sweaty and warm and just wanted to get in the tub and feel the water falling all over me.
And when I did I suddenly realised the soft but deep pleasure I was having. The body relaxing from the exercise, the mind relaxed for me being home, and the warm feeling of becoming cleaner, lighter, freer. I observed the mental chatter and it disappeared.
And I immersed on the physical sensations invading me at each moment. A huge beautiful symphony that I barely could keep track of. I didn't try to. I just allowed my frail consciousness to flow, just like water, through the plethora of experiences coming to me.
And, after a few seconds of mental silence a thought came to me. An insight. The realisation that, as a child this type of awareness was much more common than it tends to be these days. At least, I believe this is the case for most of us. As children, because we have less mental constructs in our heads, our minds sometimes, spontaneously, shut up and we're simply there, peacefully observing. Being.
In a flash I realised that we lose this with time, as we become increasingly obsessed with time itself. With meaning. With knowing. With this experience or the next or the previous or some other, somewhere in the past, perhaps coming towards us from the future. With fantasy.
In one way or another children seem to naturally retain this openness of perception, before objectives and all manner of wantings come into place.
I recalled the words of a friend of mine that keeps reminding people around him that "There's a time for everything".
I agree with this. I think it's important to become aware of the age in life we are traversing so that we can fulfil in harmony with our capabilities.
And then be able to let it go and move on to the next.
I think he, like myself, has observed many times people that are still stuck to a particular age that they feel they have not lived completely. This may happen through longing for those times long gone. Or through hatred towards those times (or even those living that age themselves).
Living in a way that we are flowing with the time present in us is easy but also difficult. For it's rare to find reliable guides to help us find footing where we stand.
Most of the times, we end up having to figure it all out by ourselves. This is not only tiring and incredibly complex but also difficult to achieve.
To my mind this should be the main role of those with greater experience than ourselves. Usually this means people older than us, people that have crossed the times we are traversing already, that can see where we stand from the vantage point of their distance.
Of course, these days particularly, things aren't that easy. Things keep changing around us and, young or old, we all struggle in one way or another to keep up with the changes we see around us.
This much is clear...
We cannot stop the world. Perhaps nor should we want to.
But the one thing we know we can incredibly influence is ourselves.
Therefore it is important to find those that can guide us through the unfolding of our-selves.
Which kind of brings me back to the beginning of this. For these people (we can call them spiritually minded - even if they don't believe in spirituality themselves, simply by being interested in their actions, in their beings and their relation with things around them, they are already being spiritual and spiritual beings - that is, to me at least, the core of spirituality, uncovering the true extension of self), these spiritual people, will have lessons learned, stories to tell, ideas to teach, advisable practices and, above all, the experience of their years and the examples of their lives to share.
(and I think this is the role we all should represent to one another too... everybody has something to learn and something to teach - sometimes even they are the same thing, only from perhaps different perspectives)
But, in order for us to benefit from this wealth of knowledge, we must learn how to be present. I usually say, learn how to listen. And listening, to me, is a full being thing. When you listen you listen with the wholeness of you - not just the ears.
Using just the ears is like saying that cycling is pedalling.
And I think that we all know what will happen if we only pedal and don't pay attention to traffic, use the handle bars or even sit properly...
For this we need to be present.
So, and in conclusion, for us to truly be present in this time and age of ours we need to retain awareness of what's happening. We need to be insightful into the now. We need to be present.
Then, perhaps not only we'll fulfil each time, one moment at a time, but perhaps we will feel that each time, each moment, is already full. That each moment is already everything.
Tuesday 22 June 2010
Strange Pathways
Life is a strange thing. I think we spend a lifetime getting used to it and more or less failing because it keeps slipping from under our fingers.
I've just seen the second part of the Crow Road TV miniseries. It's based on the Iain Banks book of the same name. And it's as much about secrets and how they tear you down as well as Scotland and Scottish culture and way of being. And, if only for the latter, it's worthwhile seeing.
For a long time I've been thinking what should I write here. I mean sure, it's about spiritual stuff. Yesterday a talk I had with someone I recently met focussed precisely on this. His preoccupation had to do mainly with other people's expectations - and the change of those expectations. Like you'd been building a product and then somehow frustrated the reliability of that product.
My view is somewhat different.
But what is spirituality?
The best definition I can come up with is that it doesn't matter the theme as long as you are really fully there. There rest, when you're half there (or less) is just everything else we fill our time with.
In a word, spirituality is immersion.
I've been thinking about how and what should I write here because I am a bit shy of sharing my vulnerabilities. Not so much because I am afraid of being harmed by others people's knowledge of them (like most people seem to be) but because that experience may harm them in some way. I mean the world is filled as it is with negative stuff and white-brained dogmatism. I wanted to escape all that. At least here. And to be precise. To give people something worthwhile. Something somewhat different from what seem to be surrounded and to do it in a hopefully positive or inspiring way. Uplifting.
Arrogant of me? Perhaps. But I am sick of reading rubbish that's not even true to itself.
And I think it's important we protect one another. Things are difficult as it is without that.
But what is a blog? It's supposed to be a place where you come and you just write whatever comes to mind, writing for yourself, yet sharing it all for the whole world to see. So it's supposed to be personal, yet for the whole world to see.
It kind of doesn't make much sense now does it? But, then again, if you're like me and you have one of these, then you probably don't worry too much with these things and just get on with it.
Until the day...
(and that day ifs perhaps tonight for me...)
While I was walking down to the postal box to return the DVD something like this monologue was happening in my mind:
I'm feeling I'm moving too fast through life. Divided between a knowledge and a bodily yearning. As if I'm too old and still young enough. Trying to fit together two different perspectives about the same thing. As if I'm harbouring two different beings. But that are both myself.
I'll explain further.
The experience of meditation changes things a bit. You kind of fast forward into lessons that probably you're only supposed to learn and realise later on in life. The relativisation of romantic love. for passion is after all one of our most dire concerns.
And yet you're still young enough for your body to just want more than your mind deems necessary or even healthy.
And if you find yourself in a tight spot. Being the arbiter of a very strange game indeed.
And you end up doing what is only reasonable to do.
Everybody gets to win or to lose sometimes.
You improvise. You allow one to win and the other to lose whenever situations are appropriate.
I'll tell you what's perhaps my greatest vulnerability. Sharing my deeper, innermost truth with someone.
I always feel that if I do do it, I will be banished. I will be cut away for the very thing I'm trying to reach.
Writing or isolation then become obvious choices for a screen or pen and paper will never run away unless you want them to. And you can always have the secrecy of your mind to keep nurtured.
It's easy to trace back to where these things started to come into my life, at least consciously.
Just as it is easy to understand that these things are so deep and span so much that it's not likely that they'll be changed dramatically any time soon. Unless something equally dramatic happens to change that happens. I at least, shy of meditation itself, am not planning on undergoing other type of possibilities.
it is obvious that, either we like it or not, we always end up pouring ourselves into the characters we create. One way or another we have to give them realism, solidity, presence. And the only reference we've got is our own.
in a way the characters always control you. The difference when you do see it happening. And you play along. And the more you play, the more you see the subtleties in which they relate, that they change, that they mirror, that they escape. The way they represent the myriad of archetypes we all have inside ourselves.
It should be clear to you by now that I don't really know where I'm going with this: I'm trying to figure it out myself. I keep coming to the title but I'm finding no real solace there.
Here's another thing that I wanted to say.
people claim they want the truth all the time but, in my experience, very few are actually ready for it. I've done it a few times. Shared the truth (or as close as I can muster to it) with them. But more often than not people mistake the opening of your heart, with all its faults and failures (that's why it is hard, if it were perfect we wouldn't be so shy in doing so), by our shirking away from them. Because you tell them of the distance you feel, they mistake this with unloving feelings. They mistake confusion with not caring. Whilst in fact it's quite the reverse. You share the confusion and the distance, because you care, because you feel close, because in some strange way you've learned to trust that person, because you want to share yourself with them.
Being turned down on this is quite hard. It's always hard for me at least. It has happened numerous times, in varying degrees, but there's always a hurt and a feeling of betrayal... I don't know, betrayal is not the right word right now, right here, maybe disappointment. A feeling that things should've been different (yet perhaps you knew at the onset that this was truly the outcome only you didn't want to to believe it...)
And it makes you feel you don't want to do it again. Because you don't want the distance to increase, along with the confusion and all the other things you were trying to get away by sharing them.
That's why I keep trying. sometimes you get it right. Even for just a few brief moments. And when you do, life acquires something better than meaning. It acquires empathy. With what it doesn't matter. Perhaps just with itself. That's what I keep searching for perhaps. People that allow this feeling to surface more rather than less.
Whenever I come out of one of the retreats I always end up meeting someone. I'll recognise the shine in the eyes, the openness inside them. And I see the joy that doesn't come merely from being happy but the joy that comes from being in tune and in acceptance of all things, wonderful or not.
And I know that we can't talk. That we can share.
And I am comforted in the knowing that even if we don't talk, even if we don't meet that we're already sharing incredible amounts.
We're already sharing our strange pathways.
I've just seen the second part of the Crow Road TV miniseries. It's based on the Iain Banks book of the same name. And it's as much about secrets and how they tear you down as well as Scotland and Scottish culture and way of being. And, if only for the latter, it's worthwhile seeing.
For a long time I've been thinking what should I write here. I mean sure, it's about spiritual stuff. Yesterday a talk I had with someone I recently met focussed precisely on this. His preoccupation had to do mainly with other people's expectations - and the change of those expectations. Like you'd been building a product and then somehow frustrated the reliability of that product.
My view is somewhat different.
But what is spirituality?
The best definition I can come up with is that it doesn't matter the theme as long as you are really fully there. There rest, when you're half there (or less) is just everything else we fill our time with.
In a word, spirituality is immersion.
I've been thinking about how and what should I write here because I am a bit shy of sharing my vulnerabilities. Not so much because I am afraid of being harmed by others people's knowledge of them (like most people seem to be) but because that experience may harm them in some way. I mean the world is filled as it is with negative stuff and white-brained dogmatism. I wanted to escape all that. At least here. And to be precise. To give people something worthwhile. Something somewhat different from what seem to be surrounded and to do it in a hopefully positive or inspiring way. Uplifting.
Arrogant of me? Perhaps. But I am sick of reading rubbish that's not even true to itself.
And I think it's important we protect one another. Things are difficult as it is without that.
But what is a blog? It's supposed to be a place where you come and you just write whatever comes to mind, writing for yourself, yet sharing it all for the whole world to see. So it's supposed to be personal, yet for the whole world to see.
It kind of doesn't make much sense now does it? But, then again, if you're like me and you have one of these, then you probably don't worry too much with these things and just get on with it.
Until the day...
(and that day ifs perhaps tonight for me...)
While I was walking down to the postal box to return the DVD something like this monologue was happening in my mind:
I'm feeling I'm moving too fast through life. Divided between a knowledge and a bodily yearning. As if I'm too old and still young enough. Trying to fit together two different perspectives about the same thing. As if I'm harbouring two different beings. But that are both myself.
I'll explain further.
The experience of meditation changes things a bit. You kind of fast forward into lessons that probably you're only supposed to learn and realise later on in life. The relativisation of romantic love. for passion is after all one of our most dire concerns.
And yet you're still young enough for your body to just want more than your mind deems necessary or even healthy.
And if you find yourself in a tight spot. Being the arbiter of a very strange game indeed.
And you end up doing what is only reasonable to do.
Everybody gets to win or to lose sometimes.
You improvise. You allow one to win and the other to lose whenever situations are appropriate.
I'll tell you what's perhaps my greatest vulnerability. Sharing my deeper, innermost truth with someone.
I always feel that if I do do it, I will be banished. I will be cut away for the very thing I'm trying to reach.
Writing or isolation then become obvious choices for a screen or pen and paper will never run away unless you want them to. And you can always have the secrecy of your mind to keep nurtured.
It's easy to trace back to where these things started to come into my life, at least consciously.
Just as it is easy to understand that these things are so deep and span so much that it's not likely that they'll be changed dramatically any time soon. Unless something equally dramatic happens to change that happens. I at least, shy of meditation itself, am not planning on undergoing other type of possibilities.
it is obvious that, either we like it or not, we always end up pouring ourselves into the characters we create. One way or another we have to give them realism, solidity, presence. And the only reference we've got is our own.
in a way the characters always control you. The difference when you do see it happening. And you play along. And the more you play, the more you see the subtleties in which they relate, that they change, that they mirror, that they escape. The way they represent the myriad of archetypes we all have inside ourselves.
It should be clear to you by now that I don't really know where I'm going with this: I'm trying to figure it out myself. I keep coming to the title but I'm finding no real solace there.
Here's another thing that I wanted to say.
people claim they want the truth all the time but, in my experience, very few are actually ready for it. I've done it a few times. Shared the truth (or as close as I can muster to it) with them. But more often than not people mistake the opening of your heart, with all its faults and failures (that's why it is hard, if it were perfect we wouldn't be so shy in doing so), by our shirking away from them. Because you tell them of the distance you feel, they mistake this with unloving feelings. They mistake confusion with not caring. Whilst in fact it's quite the reverse. You share the confusion and the distance, because you care, because you feel close, because in some strange way you've learned to trust that person, because you want to share yourself with them.
Being turned down on this is quite hard. It's always hard for me at least. It has happened numerous times, in varying degrees, but there's always a hurt and a feeling of betrayal... I don't know, betrayal is not the right word right now, right here, maybe disappointment. A feeling that things should've been different (yet perhaps you knew at the onset that this was truly the outcome only you didn't want to to believe it...)
And it makes you feel you don't want to do it again. Because you don't want the distance to increase, along with the confusion and all the other things you were trying to get away by sharing them.
That's why I keep trying. sometimes you get it right. Even for just a few brief moments. And when you do, life acquires something better than meaning. It acquires empathy. With what it doesn't matter. Perhaps just with itself. That's what I keep searching for perhaps. People that allow this feeling to surface more rather than less.
Whenever I come out of one of the retreats I always end up meeting someone. I'll recognise the shine in the eyes, the openness inside them. And I see the joy that doesn't come merely from being happy but the joy that comes from being in tune and in acceptance of all things, wonderful or not.
And I know that we can't talk. That we can share.
And I am comforted in the knowing that even if we don't talk, even if we don't meet that we're already sharing incredible amounts.
We're already sharing our strange pathways.
Saturday 19 June 2010
The Human Incompleteness Theorem
This is a theme that has been running in my mind for a while now and yesterday, while cycling home, this title surfaced and I more or less felt it was time to start writing about it. After all, if I don't do it, I'll probably end up forgetting it.
(for a while at least, these things do tend to come back again, reformulated, at a later stage, as if everything had its own cycle or appearance, disappearance, transformation and reappearance)
Kurt Gödel was the mathematician that proved MATHEMATICALLY that any single system we might come up with will never contain enough tools to be able to prove every possible affirmation about that system.
To put it more simply, if you want to know EVERYTHING about the box, you need to be OUT of it.
Bringing this theme closer to home, if we want to know everything about ourselves, or consciousness or whatever it is, we simply have to accept the fact that we can't, because, whatever the tools we employ, the very tools will end up limiting us.
We have a physical body, mind, consciousness, karma, spirituality. All these things (either we know exactly what they are or not it doesn't matter) will define how much we can know about ourselves.
It is our nature (well, for most of us it is it seems to me...) that, as soon as we realise something we jump on to the next.
And to the next.
And to the next.
It's a never-ending process of "searching for".
For better or for worse Kurt Gödel comes to clearly state that we will never reach everything.
If anything, it will be the reverse, the more we know, the more we will become keenly aware of the astounding array of possibilities. And if our perception of things changes then chances are we'll add even more to what we already had. Every new thing will expand our system, perhaps making us feel even more incomplete than before.
I was talking to a friend a few days ago about this. I told her that this isn't a pessimistic vision of things but merely a call to accept one of the most basic rules of the game. That, in fact, this theorem revolutionised mathematics, making it a much more fertile ground. It was a huge leap in terms of attitude and my personal stance is that it still hasn't even been fully integrated in the scientific community. It's too big and it goes against our natural desires. Therefore, it's acceptance is more on logical and scientific terms rather than heartfelt or experiential ones.
To me, as soon as I discovered Vipassana and had the chance of experience deeper stages of the practice, I made the connection between Buddha and Gödel immediately. It was an obvious one. Gödel had simply reached a mathematical framework for something essential to the Buddhist teachings. The experience of the incompleteness and limitation of self.
In a way we can think of the Incompleteness Theorem as a mathematical assertion on the nature of desire, on its omnipresence, on the acceptance that the drive for knowledge is something that binds us and that keeps pushing us forward but that, ultimately, we're fighting a losing battle. That even though it is important that we continue to expand our vistas, it is crucial to accept that we cannot reach the Absolute with our minds or any kind of construct. You see the Incompleteness Theorem reveals the fine boundaries that are in place at all levels of experience. And, subtly, just like the Buddha encouraged us to go and seek and see for ourselves, it teaches us that the best thing we can do is perceive that these are in place, accept them and let go. Thus allowing us to integrate them. Grow closer to them. And expand.
I think in a very subtle way Gödel is telling us there is more to life than mathematics and mind. The Buddha simply said, and you can see it for yourself. You can experience directly the breaking point of normal perception into something much vaster than no longer depends upon the mind's conceptualisation.
By experiencing the end of mind one gets as closely as possible from getting out of the box.
In fact, we reach the walls of our box. We become part of them.
Perhaps we cannot look on what's on the other side.
But we've reached all that we could, the maximum of our possibilities.
And I believe that when we return to the inside of the box (all of this may only take a moment to happen) we will find that it has considerably expanded.
And by travelling between these two very different experiences we will be able to wholly transform and expand the whole of our world view.
For the good of all beings.
Peace.
(for a while at least, these things do tend to come back again, reformulated, at a later stage, as if everything had its own cycle or appearance, disappearance, transformation and reappearance)
Kurt Gödel was the mathematician that proved MATHEMATICALLY that any single system we might come up with will never contain enough tools to be able to prove every possible affirmation about that system.
To put it more simply, if you want to know EVERYTHING about the box, you need to be OUT of it.
Bringing this theme closer to home, if we want to know everything about ourselves, or consciousness or whatever it is, we simply have to accept the fact that we can't, because, whatever the tools we employ, the very tools will end up limiting us.
We have a physical body, mind, consciousness, karma, spirituality. All these things (either we know exactly what they are or not it doesn't matter) will define how much we can know about ourselves.
It is our nature (well, for most of us it is it seems to me...) that, as soon as we realise something we jump on to the next.
And to the next.
And to the next.
It's a never-ending process of "searching for".
For better or for worse Kurt Gödel comes to clearly state that we will never reach everything.
If anything, it will be the reverse, the more we know, the more we will become keenly aware of the astounding array of possibilities. And if our perception of things changes then chances are we'll add even more to what we already had. Every new thing will expand our system, perhaps making us feel even more incomplete than before.
I was talking to a friend a few days ago about this. I told her that this isn't a pessimistic vision of things but merely a call to accept one of the most basic rules of the game. That, in fact, this theorem revolutionised mathematics, making it a much more fertile ground. It was a huge leap in terms of attitude and my personal stance is that it still hasn't even been fully integrated in the scientific community. It's too big and it goes against our natural desires. Therefore, it's acceptance is more on logical and scientific terms rather than heartfelt or experiential ones.
To me, as soon as I discovered Vipassana and had the chance of experience deeper stages of the practice, I made the connection between Buddha and Gödel immediately. It was an obvious one. Gödel had simply reached a mathematical framework for something essential to the Buddhist teachings. The experience of the incompleteness and limitation of self.
In a way we can think of the Incompleteness Theorem as a mathematical assertion on the nature of desire, on its omnipresence, on the acceptance that the drive for knowledge is something that binds us and that keeps pushing us forward but that, ultimately, we're fighting a losing battle. That even though it is important that we continue to expand our vistas, it is crucial to accept that we cannot reach the Absolute with our minds or any kind of construct. You see the Incompleteness Theorem reveals the fine boundaries that are in place at all levels of experience. And, subtly, just like the Buddha encouraged us to go and seek and see for ourselves, it teaches us that the best thing we can do is perceive that these are in place, accept them and let go. Thus allowing us to integrate them. Grow closer to them. And expand.
I think in a very subtle way Gödel is telling us there is more to life than mathematics and mind. The Buddha simply said, and you can see it for yourself. You can experience directly the breaking point of normal perception into something much vaster than no longer depends upon the mind's conceptualisation.
By experiencing the end of mind one gets as closely as possible from getting out of the box.
In fact, we reach the walls of our box. We become part of them.
Perhaps we cannot look on what's on the other side.
But we've reached all that we could, the maximum of our possibilities.
And I believe that when we return to the inside of the box (all of this may only take a moment to happen) we will find that it has considerably expanded.
And by travelling between these two very different experiences we will be able to wholly transform and expand the whole of our world view.
For the good of all beings.
Peace.
Thursday 17 June 2010
One Hundred Verses Of Advice 02
02
"To apply yourselves with body, speech and mind to the sacred teachings,
People of Tingri, is the best thing you can do."
These verses seem to take us back to the positive consequences (for self and others) of truly engaging with a true spiritual path. Perhaps it tells us how from the teachings comes all that we might need in our life. But perhaps also, that every action, every word and every thought can be a vehicle for the teachings themselves.
Dilgo Khyentse reminds us that cause and effect are omni-present and that the consequences of our actions will karmically reflect on future incarnations. That the body is a vehicle we must learn how to use. And he tells the tale of a sage that, at the end of every day, piled stones in two heaps. White stones for every good deed. And black stones for every bad deed. And that he did this until the day came where he only had a pile of white stones in front of him.
"To apply yourselves with body, speech and mind to the sacred teachings,
People of Tingri, is the best thing you can do."
These verses seem to take us back to the positive consequences (for self and others) of truly engaging with a true spiritual path. Perhaps it tells us how from the teachings comes all that we might need in our life. But perhaps also, that every action, every word and every thought can be a vehicle for the teachings themselves.
Dilgo Khyentse reminds us that cause and effect are omni-present and that the consequences of our actions will karmically reflect on future incarnations. That the body is a vehicle we must learn how to use. And he tells the tale of a sage that, at the end of every day, piled stones in two heaps. White stones for every good deed. And black stones for every bad deed. And that he did this until the day came where he only had a pile of white stones in front of him.
Tuesday 15 June 2010
One Hundred Verses Of Advice 01
Hi there
A recent friend (or perhaps a long time one... it depends on which side of reality we are seeing, how far and how deeply we can see into the truth) has given me a book containing Dilgo Khyentse's commentaries on Padampa Sangye's One Hundred Verses Of Advice.
Today at work I had the idea of writing these here and make a brief commentary on what they made me reflect upon and, perhaps share some of Dilgo Khyentse's insights.
So, without further ado...
01
"If you spend the present meaninglessly and leave with empty hands,
People of Tingri, a human life in future will be very hard to find."
To me this is call for people to practice spirituality as a way of reaching higher forms of attainment and thus liberate themselves, at the very least, from the cycle of rebirth in lower existences (the realms below the human one, ie, animals and the various hells)
It is a reminder of Karma and of the somewhat invisible yet omnipresent consequences of our actions.
It also alerts to the fact that by not being able of attaining a human life in a future rebirth (and attaining something pertaining to a lower realm) almost certainly will mean a great difficulty in purifying oneself, in releasing oneself from ignorance. In the lower realms spiritual work becomes incredibly difficult and so one tends to stay trapped in there for many cycles.
This is admonishment for all people to use the great blessing of incarnating in a human body wisely, in pursuit of liberation, for their well-being and that of others.
Dilgo Khyentse puts it more plainly by simply stating that when the time for sowing comes the farmers sow. They do not wait around for a better time. This is what we should do with our human life and the sowing of spirituality also.
peace.
A recent friend (or perhaps a long time one... it depends on which side of reality we are seeing, how far and how deeply we can see into the truth) has given me a book containing Dilgo Khyentse's commentaries on Padampa Sangye's One Hundred Verses Of Advice.
Today at work I had the idea of writing these here and make a brief commentary on what they made me reflect upon and, perhaps share some of Dilgo Khyentse's insights.
So, without further ado...
01
"If you spend the present meaninglessly and leave with empty hands,
People of Tingri, a human life in future will be very hard to find."
To me this is call for people to practice spirituality as a way of reaching higher forms of attainment and thus liberate themselves, at the very least, from the cycle of rebirth in lower existences (the realms below the human one, ie, animals and the various hells)
It is a reminder of Karma and of the somewhat invisible yet omnipresent consequences of our actions.
It also alerts to the fact that by not being able of attaining a human life in a future rebirth (and attaining something pertaining to a lower realm) almost certainly will mean a great difficulty in purifying oneself, in releasing oneself from ignorance. In the lower realms spiritual work becomes incredibly difficult and so one tends to stay trapped in there for many cycles.
This is admonishment for all people to use the great blessing of incarnating in a human body wisely, in pursuit of liberation, for their well-being and that of others.
Dilgo Khyentse puts it more plainly by simply stating that when the time for sowing comes the farmers sow. They do not wait around for a better time. This is what we should do with our human life and the sowing of spirituality also.
peace.
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