Heaven is here. Heaven is now.
Namaste. I honor the place in you where the universe rests. I honor the place in you where, if you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me there is only one of us. Namaste.
Eastern philosophy is not a philosophy understood by most, although it is a path taken by many. And though it is called Eastern, or even Oriental, its path is defined more by those who live through and by it, rather than from where it was originally established. Thus, the label Eastern philosophy refers more to a type of path carried on by an individual, than a school of thought, placed somewhere in history and established in a certain geographical location. In fact, although I was introduced into this way of life by a class I took in Chinese philosophy and some books I've read by Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu, I would say that the path has been made more clear to me by the books I've read from Western writers, such as Stephen Levine and Marianne Williamson.
Many would not even recognize Eastern philosophy as philosophy since it gives no definite answers, and does not easily lend itself into a precise system. Those who live by it know that it is more than an intellectual system, or even a school of thought, it takes root in the everyday, in mundane acts such as cleaning or riding a bus, and it could be as profoundly expressed by simply walking, as it could be through words. And since it is rooted in life, in life's incessant dynamic, I would hesitate even to call it a system. It cannot be couched in words ("The tao that can be explained is not the Eternal Tao."), or completely comprehended simply in explanation, since a lot of the learning takes place in the now, and the now is an ever elusive subject, never lending itself into complete understanding. Thus, it is often considered the way of the mystic.
Calling it the way of the mystic, though, would not have resolved anything. And just keeping silent would only elongate the gap of non-understanding. However, it does imply that this path is an intensely personal one, and often one that is silently profound.
Where is God?
"I enjoy taking my time with each dish, being fully aware of the dish, the water, and each movement of my hands. I know that if I hurry in order to eat dessert sooner, the time of washing dishes will be unpleasant and not worth living. That would be a pity, for each minute, each second of life is a miracle. The dishes themselves and the fact that I am here washing them are miracles! . . . Each thought, each action in the sunlight of awareness becomes sacred. In this light, no boundary exists between the sacred and the profane. I must confess that it takes me a bit longer to do the dishes, but I live fully in every moment, and I am happy."
- Thich Nhat Hanh
Peace Is Every Step
I live my life infused with the notion that every moment is precious, this, not because, I feel that I am on my way to someplace else, or that my actions are leading me into some rich path other than here, other than now. This moment is precious because it is the only one I have. In some point or another, we have all been stopped in our tracks, dizzy from all the rushing and running that we have been doing, and told to "Live in the moment". But probably, we never really understood what that meant, or what that required of us. Then again, there must have been times when we felt that we were truly here, and that we needed to be nowhere else. Living in the moment is the recognition that everything I need is already all here, and being such, that I need not look for fulfillment anywhere else. All that is required of me is to see my present in all its grandeur. Then, all life, all things become miracles in themselves.
Thich Nhat Hanh says that "when someone holds up a flower and shows it to you, he wants you to see it. If you keep thinking you miss the flower. The person who was not thinking, who was just himself, was able to encounter the flower in depth, and he smiled.” This means that we cannot live our lives, thinking about our lives, we live only by living. If we get lost in thinking, we fail to experience the thing, or moment for what it is, and as a consequence, we also miss the wealth of insight that is available to us at any one moment.
To some degree, we recognize that we choose what we see. In a crowded room, we may focus on a certain girl with the red blouse, and in that moment, we are choosing to see that person. And even if we do not believe that we choose what we see, if we believe that we see a thing because it is there and not because we choose to see it, we must admit that we do have a choice as to how we are going to see X and respond to X. Marianne Williamson writes in her book A Return To Love: Reflections on The Course In Miracles, that there are only two ways to respond to any given situation, one is to respond out of fear, and one out of love. If we would choose to respond to a certain person through love, we are then affirming the sanctity of that person, and acting with the consciousness that we are not separate from him or her. If we act from fear or aggression, we create our separation. She remarks, "Jesus lived within the world of fear and perceived only love."
Thus, we always begin from a place of abundance, rather than lack. Love rather than fear. With the willingness to see the abundance and glory in the universe. And with this willingness comes the recognition that every second is a miracle, every drop of rain becomes precious, every stone becomes sacred, every person becomes a temple.
I have always despised chores, hated doing them, didn't see the value in dust and grime and grease. But then, as I begun to approach my activities as I would had I been conducting a ritual, everything became sacred, everything became important. Even painting the house became an intensely spiritual endeavor. We could treat dust and dirt with as much reverence as we would had we were bathing the baby Jesus. As Hermann Hesse wrote in Siddhartha, " … the potential Buddha already exists in the sinner; his future is already there. The potential hidden Buddha must be recognized in him, in you, in everybody. The world is not imperfect or slowly evolving along a long path to perfection. No, it is perfect at every moment, every sin already carries grace within it, all small children are potential old men, old sucklings have death within them, all dying people - eternal life . . . This stone is stone; it is also animal, God and Buddha. I do not respect and love it because it was one thing and will become something else, but because it has already long been everything and always is everything. I love it just because it is a stone, because today and now it appears to me a stone. I see value and meaning in each one of its fine markings and cavities, in the yellow, in the gray, in the hardness, and the sound of it when I knock it, in the dryness or dampness of its surface."
Stephen Levine writes in his book Healing Into Life And Death, "To see God in everything, to recognize that everything is process lets us go beyond ideas of 'God' or 'process' and to enter the suchness which these terms feebly represent. It allows our healing to cut through "the calcified outer ring of thought" and be experienced as a sense of pure being." Thus, every moment spent with mindfulness removes us from the vicious cycle of good vs. evil, pain vs. pleasure, God vs. non-God, from the vicious cycle of separation, and allows us to experience God without the baggage of logical contradiction. We then begin to relate to the experience of God, rather than just to the concept that we have ascribed to him.
For the unified mind in accord with the Way
all self-centered striving ceases.
Doubts and irresolutions vanish
and life in true faith is possible.
With a single stroke we are freed from bondage;
nothing clings to us and we hold to nothing.
All is empty, clear, self-illuminating,
with no exertion of the mind's power.
Here thought, feeling, knowledge, and imagination
are of no value.
In this world of Suchness
there is neither self nor other than self.
To come directly into harmony with this reality
just simply say when doubt arises,
'Not two.'
No matter when or where,
enlightenment means entering this truth.
And this truth is beyond extension or
diminution in time or space;
in it a single thought is ten thousand years.
- Seng-stan
third Zen patriarch
Wu-Wei
Translated literally, wu-wei would mean, "Do nothing and all things shall be done." Thus, it has been dubbed the Principle of Inaction. Much confusion and friction has stemmed from this simplistic interpretation, and a literal translation hardly encompasses the subtleties of meaning that is wu-wei.
Our approach to life would start from where we are, from how we see ourselves in view of our universe. If we start from the point of view of separateness, our approach to life would manifest that separateness. But then if we start from the recognition that I am one with the universe, our actions would be defined by that.
A friend of mine compares life with bull fighting. He says, " A bull fighter may die in a bull fight. If he dies, he dies with honor. He dies in style. There is nobility in character in that! Life is like that. Some would rather die like that. Some would rather die fighting. Some would rather be destroyed than defeated. Some would rather fall or die burning . . . I want the bull dead." Some see themselves, in their lives, as though, they were living in a constant state of war. By fighting, they feel they gain their strength. And by enduring, their lives form some meaning. To fight becomes the ultimate affirmation of their existence.
I don't see myself as standing to win or lose in any war.
I just am.
When I walk, I let the ground support me and carry my weight. When I am in pain, I embrace the pain. When I feel joy, I smile. I don't try to resist any emotion or situation that I come across. I accept the emotion and let it go. Finding the path of least resistance means realizing that there is really no other path but yourself, no other form of resistance other than the resistance that is inside of you. Thus, I say, the path of least resistance isn't always the one with the least hurt. Least resistance isn't always the easy path, not always the one which is safe or bright. Sometimes, the path means that you go where you do not want to go, feel what you feel you no longer have the strength to endure. It's being able to listen to what the moment is teaching you, and being able to intuit where you need to go. If we recognize that the resistance is coming from us, and the path of least resistance, is one wherein yielding is freedom, then the path ceases to be one marked by resistance but one of acceptance. Wu-wei then becomes the path of acceptance.
To end, I wish to quote a passage from Stephen Levine's book. It tells of a man, dying of cancer. "He was so fully in the present that the struggles of a lifetime had come to resolution, allowing a great spaciousness for life, for cancer, for pain, for death. He told me how pain had taught him that any escape just increased the war. He had a deep trust in the peace of essential being. He had discovered the miracle in a cup of tea. He had discovered the marvel of a day fully lived. He had discovered healing from his cancer.
"He was no longer at war with himself or with anything else. He was just dying of cancer. When he was sad, he was just sad. When there was fear, there was just fear. When he was happy, he was just happy. Not forcing change but allowing the moment to change as it would, he was emanating a softness from his heart which soothed the conflicts of the minds all about him. No longer at battle with life, he passed the healing on to his loved ones standing quietly by, learning themselves how to die with grace, how to live in the present moment. Years of jockeying for position in the academic world, of struggling with cancer, of bed-ridden pain, of fighting with life in the guise of fighting for life, had burned through his long-conditioned desire to stay safe and hidden, and had caused him to come out of the closet of his life into a world of just being. "Dying of cancer, I stop the war.""
BIBLIOGRAPHY
quote about bullfighting taken from Diego Odchimar III
Hesse, Hermann. Siddhartha. New York: New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1951.
Levine, Stephen. Healing Into Life and Death. New York: Anchor Books, 1987.
Moran, Victoria. Shelter for the Spirit: How To Make Your Home a Haven in a Hectic World. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1997.
Nhat Hanh, Thich. Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life. New York: Bantam Books, 1991.
Watts, Alan. Tao: the Watercourse Way. New York: Pantheon Books, 1975.
The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are. New York: Pantheon Books, 1966.
The Way of Zen. New York: Pantheon Books, 1957.
Williamson, Marianne. A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1992.
Wosmek, Frances. Acknowledge the Wonder. Illinois: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1988.
Eastern philosophy is not a philosophy understood by most, although it is a path taken by many. And though it is called Eastern, or even Oriental, its path is defined more by those who live through and by it, rather than from where it was originally established. Thus, the label Eastern philosophy refers more to a type of path carried on by an individual, than a school of thought, placed somewhere in history and established in a certain geographical location. In fact, although I was introduced into this way of life by a class I took in Chinese philosophy and some books I've read by Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu, I would say that the path has been made more clear to me by the books I've read from Western writers, such as Stephen Levine and Marianne Williamson.
Many would not even recognize Eastern philosophy as philosophy since it gives no definite answers, and does not easily lend itself into a precise system. Those who live by it know that it is more than an intellectual system, or even a school of thought, it takes root in the everyday, in mundane acts such as cleaning or riding a bus, and it could be as profoundly expressed by simply walking, as it could be through words. And since it is rooted in life, in life's incessant dynamic, I would hesitate even to call it a system. It cannot be couched in words ("The tao that can be explained is not the Eternal Tao."), or completely comprehended simply in explanation, since a lot of the learning takes place in the now, and the now is an ever elusive subject, never lending itself into complete understanding. Thus, it is often considered the way of the mystic.
Calling it the way of the mystic, though, would not have resolved anything. And just keeping silent would only elongate the gap of non-understanding. However, it does imply that this path is an intensely personal one, and often one that is silently profound.
Where is God?
"I enjoy taking my time with each dish, being fully aware of the dish, the water, and each movement of my hands. I know that if I hurry in order to eat dessert sooner, the time of washing dishes will be unpleasant and not worth living. That would be a pity, for each minute, each second of life is a miracle. The dishes themselves and the fact that I am here washing them are miracles! . . . Each thought, each action in the sunlight of awareness becomes sacred. In this light, no boundary exists between the sacred and the profane. I must confess that it takes me a bit longer to do the dishes, but I live fully in every moment, and I am happy."
- Thich Nhat Hanh
Peace Is Every Step
I live my life infused with the notion that every moment is precious, this, not because, I feel that I am on my way to someplace else, or that my actions are leading me into some rich path other than here, other than now. This moment is precious because it is the only one I have. In some point or another, we have all been stopped in our tracks, dizzy from all the rushing and running that we have been doing, and told to "Live in the moment". But probably, we never really understood what that meant, or what that required of us. Then again, there must have been times when we felt that we were truly here, and that we needed to be nowhere else. Living in the moment is the recognition that everything I need is already all here, and being such, that I need not look for fulfillment anywhere else. All that is required of me is to see my present in all its grandeur. Then, all life, all things become miracles in themselves.
Thich Nhat Hanh says that "when someone holds up a flower and shows it to you, he wants you to see it. If you keep thinking you miss the flower. The person who was not thinking, who was just himself, was able to encounter the flower in depth, and he smiled.” This means that we cannot live our lives, thinking about our lives, we live only by living. If we get lost in thinking, we fail to experience the thing, or moment for what it is, and as a consequence, we also miss the wealth of insight that is available to us at any one moment.
To some degree, we recognize that we choose what we see. In a crowded room, we may focus on a certain girl with the red blouse, and in that moment, we are choosing to see that person. And even if we do not believe that we choose what we see, if we believe that we see a thing because it is there and not because we choose to see it, we must admit that we do have a choice as to how we are going to see X and respond to X. Marianne Williamson writes in her book A Return To Love: Reflections on The Course In Miracles, that there are only two ways to respond to any given situation, one is to respond out of fear, and one out of love. If we would choose to respond to a certain person through love, we are then affirming the sanctity of that person, and acting with the consciousness that we are not separate from him or her. If we act from fear or aggression, we create our separation. She remarks, "Jesus lived within the world of fear and perceived only love."
Thus, we always begin from a place of abundance, rather than lack. Love rather than fear. With the willingness to see the abundance and glory in the universe. And with this willingness comes the recognition that every second is a miracle, every drop of rain becomes precious, every stone becomes sacred, every person becomes a temple.
I have always despised chores, hated doing them, didn't see the value in dust and grime and grease. But then, as I begun to approach my activities as I would had I been conducting a ritual, everything became sacred, everything became important. Even painting the house became an intensely spiritual endeavor. We could treat dust and dirt with as much reverence as we would had we were bathing the baby Jesus. As Hermann Hesse wrote in Siddhartha, " … the potential Buddha already exists in the sinner; his future is already there. The potential hidden Buddha must be recognized in him, in you, in everybody. The world is not imperfect or slowly evolving along a long path to perfection. No, it is perfect at every moment, every sin already carries grace within it, all small children are potential old men, old sucklings have death within them, all dying people - eternal life . . . This stone is stone; it is also animal, God and Buddha. I do not respect and love it because it was one thing and will become something else, but because it has already long been everything and always is everything. I love it just because it is a stone, because today and now it appears to me a stone. I see value and meaning in each one of its fine markings and cavities, in the yellow, in the gray, in the hardness, and the sound of it when I knock it, in the dryness or dampness of its surface."
Stephen Levine writes in his book Healing Into Life And Death, "To see God in everything, to recognize that everything is process lets us go beyond ideas of 'God' or 'process' and to enter the suchness which these terms feebly represent. It allows our healing to cut through "the calcified outer ring of thought" and be experienced as a sense of pure being." Thus, every moment spent with mindfulness removes us from the vicious cycle of good vs. evil, pain vs. pleasure, God vs. non-God, from the vicious cycle of separation, and allows us to experience God without the baggage of logical contradiction. We then begin to relate to the experience of God, rather than just to the concept that we have ascribed to him.
For the unified mind in accord with the Way
all self-centered striving ceases.
Doubts and irresolutions vanish
and life in true faith is possible.
With a single stroke we are freed from bondage;
nothing clings to us and we hold to nothing.
All is empty, clear, self-illuminating,
with no exertion of the mind's power.
Here thought, feeling, knowledge, and imagination
are of no value.
In this world of Suchness
there is neither self nor other than self.
To come directly into harmony with this reality
just simply say when doubt arises,
'Not two.'
No matter when or where,
enlightenment means entering this truth.
And this truth is beyond extension or
diminution in time or space;
in it a single thought is ten thousand years.
- Seng-stan
third Zen patriarch
Wu-Wei
Translated literally, wu-wei would mean, "Do nothing and all things shall be done." Thus, it has been dubbed the Principle of Inaction. Much confusion and friction has stemmed from this simplistic interpretation, and a literal translation hardly encompasses the subtleties of meaning that is wu-wei.
Our approach to life would start from where we are, from how we see ourselves in view of our universe. If we start from the point of view of separateness, our approach to life would manifest that separateness. But then if we start from the recognition that I am one with the universe, our actions would be defined by that.
A friend of mine compares life with bull fighting. He says, " A bull fighter may die in a bull fight. If he dies, he dies with honor. He dies in style. There is nobility in character in that! Life is like that. Some would rather die like that. Some would rather die fighting. Some would rather be destroyed than defeated. Some would rather fall or die burning . . . I want the bull dead." Some see themselves, in their lives, as though, they were living in a constant state of war. By fighting, they feel they gain their strength. And by enduring, their lives form some meaning. To fight becomes the ultimate affirmation of their existence.
I don't see myself as standing to win or lose in any war.
I just am.
When I walk, I let the ground support me and carry my weight. When I am in pain, I embrace the pain. When I feel joy, I smile. I don't try to resist any emotion or situation that I come across. I accept the emotion and let it go. Finding the path of least resistance means realizing that there is really no other path but yourself, no other form of resistance other than the resistance that is inside of you. Thus, I say, the path of least resistance isn't always the one with the least hurt. Least resistance isn't always the easy path, not always the one which is safe or bright. Sometimes, the path means that you go where you do not want to go, feel what you feel you no longer have the strength to endure. It's being able to listen to what the moment is teaching you, and being able to intuit where you need to go. If we recognize that the resistance is coming from us, and the path of least resistance, is one wherein yielding is freedom, then the path ceases to be one marked by resistance but one of acceptance. Wu-wei then becomes the path of acceptance.
To end, I wish to quote a passage from Stephen Levine's book. It tells of a man, dying of cancer. "He was so fully in the present that the struggles of a lifetime had come to resolution, allowing a great spaciousness for life, for cancer, for pain, for death. He told me how pain had taught him that any escape just increased the war. He had a deep trust in the peace of essential being. He had discovered the miracle in a cup of tea. He had discovered the marvel of a day fully lived. He had discovered healing from his cancer.
"He was no longer at war with himself or with anything else. He was just dying of cancer. When he was sad, he was just sad. When there was fear, there was just fear. When he was happy, he was just happy. Not forcing change but allowing the moment to change as it would, he was emanating a softness from his heart which soothed the conflicts of the minds all about him. No longer at battle with life, he passed the healing on to his loved ones standing quietly by, learning themselves how to die with grace, how to live in the present moment. Years of jockeying for position in the academic world, of struggling with cancer, of bed-ridden pain, of fighting with life in the guise of fighting for life, had burned through his long-conditioned desire to stay safe and hidden, and had caused him to come out of the closet of his life into a world of just being. "Dying of cancer, I stop the war.""
BIBLIOGRAPHY
quote about bullfighting taken from Diego Odchimar III
Hesse, Hermann. Siddhartha. New York: New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1951.
Levine, Stephen. Healing Into Life and Death. New York: Anchor Books, 1987.
Moran, Victoria. Shelter for the Spirit: How To Make Your Home a Haven in a Hectic World. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1997.
Nhat Hanh, Thich. Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life. New York: Bantam Books, 1991.
Watts, Alan. Tao: the Watercourse Way. New York: Pantheon Books, 1975.
The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are. New York: Pantheon Books, 1966.
The Way of Zen. New York: Pantheon Books, 1957.
Williamson, Marianne. A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1992.
Wosmek, Frances. Acknowledge the Wonder. Illinois: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1988.
posted by rainchild at
4:27 am
0 Comments
