Absolutely

“Universal truth must apply to everyone…  otherwise it is not universal.”

~ The Monk With No Name, Bulletproof Monk

 

Relativity is bullshit. 

 

With all due respect to Albert Einstein, relativity has distinct applications in the field of science, but in terms of morality and ethics it has to learn its proper boundaries.  I am not denying that there are definitely some ethical concepts that will forever be perceived in shades of grey; nor am I denying that there are ideals that some hold to be self-evident truths but are, in actuality, just another attempt to impose one person’s opinion on other people’s lives.  But you have to admit that somewhere, at some level, there exists a Truth that is absolute, irrefutable, and unquestionable.

 

After all, even the most avid proponent of moral relativism holds some beliefs about the way people should act towards other people – not just a general preference for a certain kind of behavior, but a specific set of ideals that define the limits of what people should and should not do to each other.  If you don’t believe me, ask such a person if they think that cooking babies alive and eating them is an ethical thing to do.  I sincerely doubt that any would tell you, “It’s not the thing for me, but if someone else did it then it would be okay.”  You’re much more likely to hear some statement about how people shouldn’t commit such atrocities, especially on innocent babies.  And anytime you hear the word ‘should’ or ‘ought,’ it’s more than just a strong feeling about the subject; it’s a statement about a person’s values and beliefs. 

 

So at some level, everyone believes in some set of rules that all people should follow; some unwritten code that defines how we ought to behave.  The challenge is figuring out which rules are really absolute and which ones are merely relative.

 

The Chinese speak of a great thing (actually, I suppose it would be the greatest thing) called the Tao.  Literally translated as ‘the Way,’ the Tao is the flow and order of the universe, the way in which all of nature can be ever-changing and yet remain in perfect balance.  It also represents the code of behavior that, when followed, sets a person on a path that is in harmony with this natural order.  If the Tao is heeded, it leads to a way of life that is good for all people – in other words, it is the sum of all absolute Truth.

 

But how do we get to know what the Tao is?  If you combine the values of every creed, from Islam to Christianity, from Buddhism to Judaism, from Hinduism to Paganism, certainly you’ll find lots of contradictions.  But somewhere in the whole mess of things I think you’ll find a set of values that each religion has in common, a code of behavior that all people of all faiths can embrace.  I doubt that this alone would reveal the entirety of the Tao…  but it sure would be a good place to start.

The Art of Storytelling

“Our only hope, our only peace, is to understand it – to understand the Why.”

~ The Merovingian, The Matrix Reloaded

 

I wrote my last entry on what I believe, and I ended it by saying that what others believe is not my story to tell.  I want to make it clear that I am not implying that I don’t want to hear those stories; quite to the contrary, I want to hear all that you believe and why you believe it.  But therein lies the one caveat, the single stipulation that I place on anyone and everyone who would share the tale of their beliefs with me:  you must understand the Why.

 

There is a sharp distinction between faith and blind faith.  Blind faith cannot be discussed or debated; there is no sense of possibility or contingency, no willingness to consider a position that lies contrary to the creed; it is an unyielding and uncompromising stance that can only affirm itself and deny everything else in an eternal cycle of self-supporting closed-mindedness.  It is the attitude of the person who claims that the Bible is the unquestionable Word of God only because the Bible itself says that this is the case.

 

You can replace the Bible with any other religious text and still get the same idea.

 

My issue with blind faith is that there cannot be an atmosphere of mutual respect between two people searching for the Truth.  There is one person who believes that his dogma is absolutely true, whose intention is to simply tell you about it but is not open to hearing what the other has to say.  Contrast this with the person who has thought about their beliefs, whose faith is not dependent on what they have been told to believe by parents or preachers or popular culture, but is instead founded on clear thought and self-awareness.  Now that’s someone you can really get into a good conversation with.

 

In essence:  You can believe whatever you want to believe…  as long as you understand why you believe it.

 

Once that understanding is there, we can talk about our beliefs with the knowledge that we are both open to exploring different ideas, concepts that may make us uncomfortable or challenge what we take to be Truth.  This kind of open discourse holds the potential to shift a worldview, to unlock some of the mysteries of life and the universe, to change the very nature of a person.  But we can never be open-minded about a belief that we don’t understand.

 

Now that that’s out of the way…  let’s talk.  I want you to tell me your story.

Mere Belief

“Know thyself, and thou shalt know the universe and its gods…”

~ The Oracle at Delphi

 

I recently taught a class on the subject of religion and spirituality.  It was a small group of adult students – eight of them, to be exact – and the discussion soon became heated as each person strove to assert their beliefs and counter the dissenting views presented by others.  I concentrated my efforts on mediation, interjecting with the occasional pointed question to spur my students to explore the areas of their belief that they had not yet taken the time to consider.  It was a morning of intense self-discovery, leaving everyone (including myself) mentally exhausted but nevertheless wholly pleased with the results. 

 

It was not until the end of the class that one of the students asked me, “What do you believe?”  With the lunch hour rapidly approaching, and the students eager to leave the class but still waiting to hear my answer, I replied with a succinct summary of my beliefs.  It was not until later that I realized that what I had spoken of were the beliefs that lie at the very core of my being, the undiluted essence of what I am willing to live for and fight for and die for.

 

I thought it appropriate to leave a record of those beliefs here, since they form the foundation upon which I build my life – including my search for Truth.

 

To put my beliefs in the smallest terms possible:  I believe in God but not religion.  The religions of the world are like the four blind men who discovered the elephant…

 

“This is a wall,” said the one touching the elephant’s flank.  “No, this is a snake,” said the one touching the trunk.  “Don’t be stupid, it’s a tree,” said the one touching the leg.  “You’re all wrong, it’s a broom,” said the one touching the tail.  And the four blind men argued and fought and eventually decided that it was a good time to start killing each other.  So they did.

 

The lesson is, of course, that if the blind men had only taken the time to share their views, they might have come to an understanding that they were each touching a small part of a single larger creature, and thus discovered more about the whole elephant.  Religions are like that – blind, stumbling about in search of God, and fighting over whose view of God is the best one.  Perhaps if everyone stopped arguing long enough to start collaborating, we might end up with a better idea of what God is like.

 

No, let me rephrase that.  Everyone must stop arguing and start collaborating before we can make any progress in knowing about God.  Ultimately, any deity worth worshipping must be greater than the human mind can grasp.  If you can define and label a deity, if you can place the divine in a tidy little box, how deific or divine can such an entity really be?  To be divine is to be more than human, and to be more than human is, by definition, to lie outside of human understanding.  The Tao Te Ching says, “The name that can be named is not the Eternal Name.”  It is impossible for us to know all there is to know about an entity that is infinite and eternal, but if we share our ideas, we’ll at least be that much better off.

 

And yes, I do believe in God.  Forget the images and ideas of God that you’ve had put in your heads by churches or laboratories, mosques or the media; that’s what I’ve done.  Consider only this:  that out of all the vastness of time and space, there may be an entity that is great enough to span it all, who philosophers call the Unmoved Mover.  Whether this entity created the universe or not is irrelevant; whether this entity is benevolent or malicious or simply indifferent is also irrelevant.  Consider only that there may be an entity as far above us as we are above simple bacteria, that there may be no other entity greater than this.  That is what God is to me – the greatest entity in all of time and space.  Everything else is hearsay.

 

It is the knowledge of this entity that is the fundamental object of my search for Truth.  That’s why I spend my time questioning everything, including people in authority – especially people in authority – to discover the absolutes that exist before people came and confused everything with rumors and labels and categorizations.  And while the knowledge of an infinite God must also be infinite, and my quest may never be fulfilled in this life or the next, I would still pursue it anyway.  Enlightenment is in the journey.

 

You may question why I choose to believe in God to start with.  After all, it is impossible to either prove or disprove the existence of the kind of ‘greatest entity’ that I have described.  And you would be right; I have no evidence that such an entity exists…  but then again, the amoebas wouldn’t have much evidence that humans exist either. 

 

So in the end, it all comes down to faith.  I believe that there is a God.  What you believe is not my story to tell.

On Enlightenment

“Enlightenment is only a name…  but truth is absolute.”

~ Zen Master Seung Sahn, “Wanting Enlightenment is a Big Mistake”

 

I’ve long held to the belief that a dedicated search for Truth would one day lead me to attain enlightenment – this mystical state of spiritual knowledge and insight that will allow me to understand all of the mysteries of life and the universe.  To have that kind of transcendent wisdom and sagacity into spiritual matters is something that I’ve wanted for a long time…  but now I’m starting to think that I’m missing the point.

 

The problem is that I don’t really know what enlightenment is.  I can attach different values to it, like being able to speak words of wisdom to my students, or being able to stay calm and meditate in the midst of chaos, but even when I do these things I can’t honestly say that I’m enlightened.  And if I did say that I had achieved enlightenment, I’d be wrong; it seems to me that anyone who made this claim wouldn’t be truly enlightened.  True enlightenment, a state of complete spiritual understanding, is a state so perfect that I can’t even begin to conceptualize it at all.

 

Seeking enlightenment is, I suppose, something like trying to see your eyes.  You can see what your eyes look like in a mirror or a photograph, but you can never actually see your own eyes – just an image or reflection of them.  You can get close, but you just can’t define the indefinable.  So in my desire to become enlightened, I pursue something that I think is enlightenment but is really something quite different – often something good in itself, but something other than enlightenment nevertheless. 

 

It is gradually dawning on me that since I can’t adequately define that which I deeply desire, I should put the desire itself behind me and focus on those things that I can define.  I don’t need to concern myself with ‘enlightenment’ – something that is, essentially, just a name, a way to label something that can’t be labeled.  To an extent, wanting enlightenment is itself a hindrance to being enlightened.  Instead, I should simply continue my search for Truth, for the absolutes that exist before thought or definition, and learning all that I can in the process.

 

Maybe enlightenment is not something you attain, but something you do… from one moment to the next.

Child-Like, Not Child-ish

There is a very wise woman to whom I owe a great debt; without her influence and guidance I doubt that I would have embarked on this quest for Truth at all.  Her commentary on my last entry gave me pause and compelled me to clarify my thoughts.  It is in response to her insights – and to honor her as well – that this entry is written.

 

“I don’t agree that ‘each new achievement or possession, each new point of definition, becomes another brick on an ever-growing wall that encases our minds…’  As I get older, I am aware of my limitations – for example, I don’t want to learn to ski downhill because I know the speed will scare me (I’ve tried it before)!”

 

There is a subtle difference at play here…  To know and understand my limitations is one thing; to refuse to discover how far my limits lie is another.  There is great value in experience and wisdom – if I try a new sport and discover that it does not bring me any enjoyment, it would be ridiculous to continue it simply for the sake of keeping myself open to experiences.  But refusing to try a new sport at all because I believe that I will not enjoy it – without having any reason for this belief – is just as ridiculous.

 

But perhaps this example is too narrow a focus for the picture that I’m trying to see…  A different one may serve better.  If I were to travel to a distant country and find that my experience there was not enjoyable, I would be a fool to settle down there in a stubborn attempt to keep an open mind.  In this sense I must respect my experience.  But I would be just as foolish to close my mind to the possibility to settling down there in the future; nothing stays the same from day to day, and I may change to accept the country – or the country may change to become acceptable to me. 

 

I suppose that it is less important to be open to new experiences and more important to be open to new possibilities.  To say, “I can’t ski,” isn’t necessarily true – there is the possibility that such a person could ski perfectly well – so it would be more accurate to say, “I don’t like to ski.”  The question then becomes one of understanding the self:  “Why don’t I like to ski?”  And this in turn leads to more questions…  “Is it fear holding me back, and is it a legitimate fear?  What does this experience teach me?  What can I learn about myself?”

 

In this way, even the most mundane experience can be transformed into a mystical one, a chance to take another step forward in the evolution of the soul.

 

“Although it is true that ‘a child can become anything because there is no concern about being defined or, for that matter, being anything at all,’ an adult learns to be realistic about what he or she can achieve.  Keeping your mind ‘focused and clear and child-like’ doesn’t necessarily mean that you will be able to explore all the possibilities without restriction.  There will always be restrictions in life.  The trick is to find ways to overcome them.”

 

I need to examine the difference between a restriction in life and a restriction in the mind.  The former is definitely real and needs to be overcome before some possibilities can be explored; the latter is merely an illusion, a belief that limits our choices to what we think we can achieve.  It is the difference between not applying to medical school because you don’t have the financial capacity to do so (yet), and not applying because you believe that you are not intelligent enough to succeed. 

 

In a sense, it is easier to find ways to overcome the restrictions created by circumstance than to dismiss those limiting beliefs that hold us back from pursuing our dreams.  That is what I mean by being child-like; children have no such limiting beliefs – in any given day they are astronauts and doctors and parents and heroes – and to them, the future is infinite.  They believe they can be anything they want.

 

But even when the mind is free to consider all possibilities, some barriers may still exist in life.  The woman who believes herself intelligent enough for medical school but cannot afford it would be foolish to pursue that goal until she had found a way to overcome this financial challenge.  In this lies the difference between being child-like and child-ish:  the childish mind may attempt a challenge without applying adult wisdom to first deal with very real concerns, turning a difficult situation into an impossible one; in contrast, the child-like mind can remain open to new possibilities, even while acknowledging and accepting the restrictions that fate may impose.  

 

So what does all this mean?  I must strive to maintain a child-like mind, open to all possibilities without bias or judgment, yet tempered by a sense of realism attained through experience.  I must seek the balance between the wisdom of maturity and the innocence of youth…  and, once I have found it, I must put it into practice.  Whether the seeking or the practice will be the easier task remains to be seen.