The Veritas Paradox

O Tempora, O Morons

2009-03-28T13:32:00.001-06:00

“Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.”

~ Chili Davis

I was spending some time with a good friend in Chapters yesterday, browsing through the Kids’ Fiction section – the kind of stories written for children of nine to twelve years. I discovered a couple of books from my youth that she had also read, and we stood there with Watership Down and Tuck Everlasting and began to reminisce about how profound these books were, and how they dealt with such powerful issues, introducing us to the ideas of tyranny and freedom, reason and blind emotion, the folly of seeking immortality, and so on. Then we looked at a random selection of the latest in kids’ fiction and found them wanting, compilations of insubstantial fluff bound together and called a novel, that explored nothing of worth and catered only to the whimsical fancies of a new generation.

This led the conversation to a discussion of the maturity of our students (my friend is a children’s pastor). We came to the conclusion that, far from growing up too fast, they aren’t taking the time to grow up at all; while they are exposed to mature themes in modern society – sex, drugs, violence, and so on – they are not developing the maturity to handle it. The apparent truth of this conclusion came when we talked of decades past, when children were expected to follow in the trade of their parents, when they were educated with what they needed to know to make a decent living and struck out to make a life of their own by the age of fifteen (if not sooner).

Certainly, it was a harder life in those times – but a person of eighteen years in that era was an adult, fully independent and mature; a person of eighteen years now is still a child, barely possessing the wherewithal to make wise decisions, let alone build a life for themselves. Despite the tongue-in-cheek title of this reflection, I don’t think it’s an issue of intelligence but one of preparedness. Students today are simply not being prepared to become adults; they are coddled and pampered and given choices that they have not earned, and it is ruining their youth. This is a time that ought to be spent building wisdom, discipline, honor, charity, and a host of other virtues – and instead it is squandered in the pursuit of frivolities that are, ultimately, meaningless.

Yes, I know, there are exceptions. But they make these observations more poignant for the contrast.

So what does all this have to do with teaching science? It is making me question the point of all that we teach in high school science. The curriculum is content-driven, and while different methods can be used to make it interesting and engaging and fun, I question why we are teaching it at all. Only a fraction of those who take science classes will remember what they have learned even a year after graduation; of those, another mere fraction will actually put what they have learned to use in further education and industry. What is the point of making the science curriculum so content-driven when most of the content will be forgotten?

The quandary I have is this: I love science. I find it fascinating and I enjoy teaching the subject of my fascination to others. But I would gladly abandon it in favor of teaching students that life doesn’t revolve around them; that they are a spoiled, selfish generation; that if society is ever to rise out of the murk and mire of our times, they just have to grow up. That’s what they need to learn. And I just don’t see how teaching science can get them there – it contains a great deal of information, but very little about life.

(I really miss teaching life skills to homeless ex-convicts right now.)

My only consolation at this point is that the teaching of science will inevitably lead to strong relationships with certain students as the years go by, built upon a shared love of the subject. Through these relationships I hope to be able to influence and shape these individuals, to help them grow in maturity and wisdom, and to become the people that the world needs. I have to hold on to the belief that even if there aren’t many good people in the universe, you only need a few.

Until I find a way to integrate science and the larger issues of life, science will always take second place to teaching that which is really important.

No Identity

2009-02-28T22:27:00.004-07:00

Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912) received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen. Nan-in served tea. H e poured his visitor’s cup full, and then kept on pouring.

The professor watched the cup overflow until he could not longer restrain himself. “It’s too full. No more will go in!”

“Like this cup,” Nan-in replied, “you are too full. Empty your cup!”

While discussing our identities as teachers in one of my seminars, I found myself answering many of the questions in a passive manner, almost non-answers. I do not have a role model for a good classroom teacher, so that I can better find my own way to teach; I do not claim to know when I know something so that I am always open to correction; I do not have a picture of a good learner in my mind so that I don’t limit other students who do not fit my picture. It seems a negative or contradictory way of dealing with these interesting questions and I feel the need to clarify.

The Japanese have a concept called Mu, which means “emptiness.” It is used in Zen Buddhism to express ideas such as “no self,” “no ego,” “no permanence,” and so on. At any rate, the concept behind Mu is to become empty of self, allowing you to actively take in whatever circumstances might come along without any concept of self-identity or ego to get in the way.

The thing about identity is that it inherently creates division; the more unique you try to be, the more differences you create between yourself and those around you. It is only through division that one gains an individual identity.

I guess I’m on a journey to experience Mu, to transcend the dualistic distinctions between good and evil, gain and loss, self and other. This may be largely a spiritual or mystical journey, but it also has practical value – if I seek to have “no self,” there will be nothing to stop me from accepting everyone without judgment; if I seek to have “no ego,” I will not attempt to impose my ideals on others.

As teachers, we are commanded to teach specific content to our students, and I intend to do so. But first and foremost, my responsibility is not to teach content but to empower minds, showing students not what to think but how to think, to help them realize their own potential, to teach them how to inquire into and clarify themselves. I do not shape my students; I empower them to take the shape they were meant to take. And to do this, I cannot judge; I must allow them the freedom to become fully themselves, even if what they are destined to become is different from my concept of ideal.

I must have no identity so that my students can find theirs.

One Thing

2009-02-11T21:12:00.002-07:00

“The one thing that matters is the effort. It continues, whereas the end to be attained is but an illusion of the climber, as he fares on and on from crest to crest; and once the goal is reached it has no meaning.”

~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

High school curriculum, as dictated by the various programs of study – the government documents that define what must be taught and learned – is not as intimidating as I originally thought it would be. With planning and imagination, it appears possible to achieve all of the requirements of the curriculum and still provide students with enough time for the process of true learning to take place, learning that will continue to serve the student long after they have graduated and are well into their adult lives.

Despite this, however, there seems to be a persistent idea among teachers that the Alberta Education vision statement is an unattainable ideal. At seven pages, it is a lengthy document as far as vision statements go. It talks of meeting students’ needs for physical, social, cultural, and psychological security; of engaging parents as well as students in purposeful and meaningful approaches to studies; of contributing to the quality of the school and the community; of preparing students to be productive members of society through careful attention to each individual student. All this, of course, while teaching the substantial content necessary for students to pass their Grade 12 Diploma Exams.

It is such a grand vision that many view it to be something that looks good on paper but is impossible in practice, a goal that cannot be achieved. This idea could very well be true. Meeting the lofty ideals of this vision might be impossible – and that, in my opinion, is a very good thing. I believe that the best kind of goal is an unattainable one, precisely because it is impossible to attain what is being sought.

The problem with goals is that, once they are achieved, people tend to get complacent about them; what was sought has been attained and can now be comfortably forgotten. To have an unattainable goal changes this completely. It eliminates those who do not have the fortitude to strive for the impossible, leaving only those with a passion for the work in and of itself. It lessens division and promotes unity, as each individual realizes that there is no longer any need to compete with others on the same path; the self can be forgotten for the sake of harmony among peers. It abolishes any limitations on expression, since there is no guaranteed way of reaching the goal and thus no guaranteed methods to achieve it, leaving each person free to walk the path in their own way.

Perhaps the best part is that any effort that a person puts into striving for the impossible goal is no longer the means to an end. The end doesn’t really exist. So the means – the effort itself – becomes everything. And when the effort is everything, I can pour all of myself into it, purely for the sake of doing a good job. With an unattainable goal, there is no sense of frustration if it doesn’t work and no sense of personal achievement or entitlement if it does. There is only the effort itself – and in the end, that’s the one thing that really matters.

A New Direction

2009-02-10T12:41:00.002-07:00

“The object of a new year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul.

~ G. K. Chesterton

It’s been a long time since my last entry, and a great deal has changed since then. I returned to University at the start of this year to get my Bachelor’s in Education with the goal of eventually becoming a high school science teacher, leaving my old job behind – a transition from teacher to student only to become a teacher again. It’s a very exciting time.

My experiences involve both a practicum in a nearby high school and classroom work. The latter includes the writing of weekly reflective journals that, having submitted four of them, I’ve realized are extensions of my entries here. They are simply given a different focus – the application of my past understandings in the latest chapter of my life.

As I seek to apply what I believe to be true in this new field of experience, it will undoubtedly solidify some ideas while requiring the adaptation of others – an essential part of the search for purpose, perfection, and Truth. To that end, my journals will provide the content for the entries that follow.

Matters of Faith

2008-09-30T20:55:00.000-06:00

“Not everyone believes what you do, Morpheus!”

“My beliefs do not require them to.”

~ Commander Lock and Morpheus, The Matrix Reloaded

It wasn’t until I found myself drawn into a series of discussions about the deeper issues of life and the universe that I realized this about myself. I don’t know when the seed was first planted or when it began to grow, and I don’t know how much more growth it has before it’s fully mature and whole. Perhaps it never will be, and perhaps that’s the point.

What I’m talking about is the understanding that I do not need others – nor necessarily even want others – to believe as I do. Regardless of my beliefs, no matter how strong my conviction or deep my faith, I see it as a good and healthy thing that others do not hold to the same beliefs as I.

In the search for Truth, who can say that they ever find it? Truth, or the Way Things Are, is as eternal as we are mortal, as infinite as we are finite, as magical as we are mundane. I don’t think we can ever fully grasp it. So how can I, a mere mortal, say whose beliefs – including my own – are right? If we all believe the same thing, who can say with certainty that simply because it is popular means that it must be true? Is it not just as likely that we may all be wrong?

It is our differences in belief that matter, because it is through our differences and the discussions that arise from them that we may all come to see life differently, that our worldviews might shift and be changed in subtle ways. It is through openness and humility that we can open ourselves to the possibility of learning from those around us. I do not want you to believe as I do, because it is the differences in our beliefs that encourage the kind of discourse that precedes spiritual growth.

Simply put, my journey on the path to enlightenment is made swifter by your disbelief. As I embrace our differences and we continue to speak of those deep, dark ways of the cosmos, I grow closer to understanding the whole.

So you see, regardless of who you are and what you believe, I want to hear from you. If you believe as I do, I find a companion for the journey; if you do not, I find new insights that will enrich my journey in a different way. Either way, I will honor and respect your beliefs; either way, you are a part of the road that leads to my enlightenment.

You do not need to believe as I do. My beliefs do not require you to.

One Rule

2008-09-28T10:05:00.001-06:00

It’s been a while since I last sat down to write… I can’t say it’s for any good reason, save that I just got preoccupied with living life – and it’s a beautiful one, no matter what circumstances might bring.

I’ve been thinking for some time about the way I choose to live, the code of honor I choose to follow. I’ve long held that what is lawful and what is right are often two entirely different things; virtuous behavior must come from the heart, without coercion, or else it isn’t genuine virtue. Or, to paraphrase the Tao Te Ching, the moment we need rules to make us act kindly and justly, it is merely an act, and the surest sign that there is no true kindness or justice. So I’ve lived by my own personal code for quite some time now, but I’ve never tried to write it down or formalize it.

It wasn’t until I started trying, about the time of my last entry, that I realized that it all came down to one, single, simple rule. Saint Augustine said it best: “Love, and do as you please.” My one rule.

If I genuinely love someone – and I’m not talking about mere eros, here, although it may certainly be relevant… I’m talking about love in its totality, including the aspects of charity, of affection, of friendship – I can do no wrong. Love places the needs and desires of another above those of the self. I would never lie to those I truly love, nor seek to harm them in any way; I would seek to bring about what is good for them without regard for myself.

If I genuinely love my community, I can weigh the merit of my actions by how they benefit all of the people whose lives I touch. I would seek to give of my time and effort to build up the community, through acts of service or hospitality, lending my best qualities to the edification of all.

If I genuinely love myself, I can know my limits and respect them. I would know when I have given enough of myself to need time for solitude and meditation, knowing also that burning out does not benefit anyone. I would know when to rest so that I could return to the community feeling refreshed and rejuvenated and able to love them fully and without reservation or condition.

The trick is, of course, to live by this one rule. It’s much easier to talk about than to actually live… but then, even if never get it perfectly right, at least I’ve got something to strive for.

Here’s to love.

The Balance

2008-09-04T22:13:00.002-06:00

“One often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it.”

~ Master Oogway, Kung Fu Panda

I had an epiphany today.

I was deep in discussion with a friend at work about the subject of decision and destiny – the same paradox that I wrote of in my last entry – when an answer came to me in a flash of clarity and insight. It was so sudden that I think I might even have stopped in mid-sentence. I realized at that moment where the balance lies between the opposing forces of fate and free will.

I’m just not sure if I can express it in words. But I’m certainly going to try.

I see the universe as a cosmic tapestry, a work of art, each thread woven into just the right place and pattern to create a beautiful and harmonious whole. I see everything, great and small, forming part of a grand cosmic design – some parts in order, some in chaos, but all in their right places, all against a backdrop of perfect harmony. The destiny of all things is to take their appointed place in this tapestry to maintain the harmony of the whole.

Now let us bring humanity into the picture. I see the life of each and every person as a single thread… not just any kind of thread, though; a thread with conscience, which can choose where it will be woven into the tapestry of the cosmos. (I can also see the possibility that other entities have the same choices to make, from pebbles to trees to oceans to stars, and that they have simply chosen not to choose any differently. But that is another matter entirely.)

This brings about a different vision. I see the tapestry obscured by the movement of thousands of millions of individual threads, each seeking their place, trying to decide where they wish to be woven in to the fabric of the cosmos. Like everything else, the destiny of each of us is to find a place that will maintain the harmony of the cosmic pattern – looking at both the tapestry that was here before us, and the movement of the other threads around us.

Destiny becomes dynamic, then, a fluid entity that is as alive as you and I. My destiny is to find a place of harmony with the universe and everyone around me, and that will change with every choice that any of us makes. Your choices become my circumstances; to be in harmony with my circumstances is my destiny; to follow the path of my destiny is my choice; and my choice is your circumstance.

At any given point in time, my destiny is to find the place of greatest harmony. In the Book of Ecclesiastes, Solomon – lauded in the Bible as one of the wisest men of his time, or perhaps of all times – said it best:

There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven: A time to give birth and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted. A time to kill and a time to heal; a time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance. A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones; a time to embrace and a time to shun embracing. A time to search and a time to give up as lost; a time to keep and a time to throw away. A time to tear apart and a time to sew together; a time to be silent and a time to speak. A time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace.

With each passing moment, my destiny changes; the path that I am meant to walk depends on my circumstances, and the actions that I should take are those that bring me into perfect harmony with the universe and with others. There is no good or evil. There is simply that which brings one into harmony with my circumstances, and that which does not.

So I choose the path of harmony. I choose to accept my destiny. And therein I find the balance that I seek.

Decision and Destiny

2008-09-03T19:36:00.002-06:00

“When you are calm and stable, careful of attention, the celestial design is always clear, open awareness is unobscured; then you have autonomy in action and can deal with whatever arises.”

~ The Book of Balance and Harmony

Sometimes you have to make difficult choices.

There arise times in everyone’s life when a decision of great importance must be made, a decision that has consequences that will reach far beyond the foresight of even the wisest of us, a decision that will change life forever.

I don’t know about you, but I still don’t know how to deal with those choices.

I believe in Destiny, that each one of us has a purpose to fulfill and that our purpose will be revealed through everyday life if we remain open and aware of our surroundings and the opportunities that present themselves to us each day. So when it comes down to these difficult choices, I find myself refusing to make a decision to pursue one path over another, believing that what is meant to be simply will be if I allow events to take their natural course. I hesitate to interfere in what I see as an organic process that will reveal the right path – my destiny – if I accept circumstances as they unfold.

It’s been working for me so far. The question I find myself asking is whether it really is the right way of going about things, or if I’ve just developed an elegant and ‘enlightened’ way to avoid making any real decisions.

How do I decide what to do while still allowing Destiny to run its course? How can I actively make a choice without trying to be the master of my fate, while still embracing uncertainty?

There is a balance to be found here, I’m sure… but I can’t see it. Maybe this is another of life’s many paradoxes, an unanswerable question of how to exercise free will while accepting the forces of destiny, of how to take control without taking control. Perhaps it comes back to maintaining a state of no-attachment, of making a choice without holding any expectations for a desired outcome.

Perhaps not.

I guess the only answer I really have right now is to simply live life to its fullest, and to learn – and laugh – when I make mistakes. Maybe I’ll find that balance through trial and error.

Maybe I won’t – but I’ll have a wonderful time trying.

And maybe that’s exactly how my destiny will be revealed.

Letting Go

2008-08-20T20:59:00.001-06:00

“The best way to live is to be like water, for water benefits all things and goes against none of them.”

~ Verse 8 of the Tao Te Ching

The events of today have made me realize that I am still very much attached to my beliefs. When they are questioned, I rationalize them. When they are challenged, I defend them. When they are ignored, I cling to them all the more. When someone does not believe as I do, I attribute it to ignorance or folly. And I do so without ever seeing my own pride.

So it struck me as rather hypocritical to claim to have an open mind and yet be judgmental towards those who do not have an open mind in the same way that I do. Who am I to judge? I claim to be open-minded and yet reserve my judgment for those who do not question the source of their beliefs, or who disregard the poor and needy, or who are drawn to materialism and the race to have the next best gadget on the market. And yet these same people are more than these things; they may have valid opinions and beliefs that I can learn from, ideas that will broaden my own worldview… but I write them off because their attitudes do not match my own.

When did I become so arrogant?

The Tao says, “The Sage puts his own views behind, so ends up ahead.” In order to accept all people – to be truly and genuinely open-minded – I need to let go of my beliefs and all those things that I use to define myself, to make myself appear different from everyone else. I have fallen into the trap of seeking identity in division; I have become so enamored with the idea of social revolution that I view anyone who opposes me with contempt; I have been attempting to impose my will on the universe even as I speak of embracing the uncertainty of nature and destiny.

So now I need to unlearn my beliefs – or what I believe are my beliefs. I have to let go of my preconceived notions of what I think is Truth. I have to let go of the very concept of my self, so that there can be no attachments and nothing to attain – only clear sight and a life lived in accordance with the nature of things, moving in harmony with the present moment, always knowing the truth of just what to do.

There must be no I. Only that which is.

The New Patriots

2008-08-10T09:47:00.002-06:00

“All machines have their friction… but when the friction comes to have its machine, and oppression and robbery are organized, I say, let us not have such a machine any longer.”

~ Henry David Thoreau, Civil Disobedience

Who decided that rule by the majority is the best system of government? When did this become a tradition? After all, when power rests in the hands of the majority, it’s not because it seems the fairest to the minority or because the majority is most likely to be right – Copernicus and Galileo could attest to that. It’s simply because the majority is the strongest.

Justice cannot be served by a system based on majority rule, but by people of conscience. You might argue that a government has no conscience, and you would be right; but a government made of conscientious people is a government with a conscience. And this means cultivating a sense of respect not for the law, but for the right – laws never made people any more just, and those who respect the law most can be easily made into agents of injustice when the system itself is unjust.

Even the idea of voting for change is suspect – another way of sustaining the tradition. Voting is like gambling with a slight moral tinge to it; we vote for what we think is right and against what we think is wrong, but the moment we consign our consciences to the majority we have given up genuinely caring about what we believe. We cast our votes, hoping that the right will prevail, and we grumble about it when it does not… but we are, essentially, willing to leave it to the majority. So it turns out that voting for what is right is still doing nothing for it.

But it sure makes a lot of people feel good that at least they expressed their good intentions in public.

I can’t say that I’m content to leave these decisions to the mercy of chance, or entertain the feeble fancy that the right will prevail through the power of the majority. I can’t say that I have a lot of faith in humanity – there’s not much virtue to the found in the action of the masses, because far too many people are content to simply perpetuate a system that they’re comfortable with, serving their country not as people, but as machines. If only the majority of people were also people of conscience… but they’re not. Not yet.

It’s ironic, really… I’ve never been proud of this country. I’ve never really felt an attachment to any one place – maybe a lifetime of traveling and wandering the globe has given me a different perspective on things, a sense of belonging not to a single country but to the Earth as a whole. That’s part of what motivates me now.

Wherever I've gone, I've seen problems. We live on a fractured and damaged planet that needs one country to stand out as a shining example of What Could Be; one place to set their own affairs in order and show the rest of the planet a better way. To change the world, we must change a country. To change a country, we must change the system that controls – or, in this case, hinders – that country.

As for what country undergoes this revolution, that’s entirely irrelevant – except that I live in this particular one at this particular time, so I see no reason why I shouldn’t just start with this one.

I don’t really know where that leaves me, though. I believe that this country can become one based not on prejudice and materialism, but on interdependence and unity. I believe that a true patriot is one who is committed to building his or her country into as perfect a place as it can become, and who resists any government or system that hinders this social evolution. I believe that the best government is that which governs not at all.

It’s a bold vision, and I’m willing to work for it.

But first I need to find others who believe as I do, to awaken New Patriots who aren’t willing to let the majority or the government stop us from making this country into what it could become. If we are to serve the country best, we must resist any force that tries to stop us from making change for the better. To do what’s right, we must break the laws that support injustice.

It’s a sentiment best expressed in the words of Captain Malcolm Reynolds from the movie Serenity…

I aim to misbehave.

Handlebars

2008-08-08T17:40:00.002-06:00

It’s rare for a music video to inspire me. So when I discover one that does, it’s an event that requires comment.

The video in this case is for the song Handlebars by the Flobots. Even if the music isn’t quite your style, the video itself is a powerful and poignant work of art that speaks of the state of society and the human condition. It is saddening, and yet inspiring.

When the day comes that my government finally goes too far, I hope that I have the fortitude and depth of faith to stand up for what I believe, to defy the powers that be no matter how damning the odds, to raise my fist to the sky and cry out for freedom.

A Meditation

2008-07-28T20:23:00.002-06:00

“Tao is limitless, unborn, eternal – it can only be reached through the Hidden Creator. She is the very face of the Absolute, the gate to the source of all things eternal.”

~ Verse 6 of the Tao Te Ching

There is something about this particular verse of the Tao Te Ching that resonates within me. I can’t quite put my finger on it; perhaps it’s because it connects so well with my idea of what God is, or perhaps it simply makes intuitive sense to me, or perhaps it’s something else entirely. Whatever the reason, I am just going to have to sit quietly and meditate on it and trust that the Truth will be revealed when I am ready to receive it. After all, the rest of Verse 6 reads, “Listen to Her voice; hear it echo through creation. Without fail, She reveals her presence. Without fail, She brings us to perfection.”

I'm here. And I’m listening.

Embracing Uncertainty

2008-07-25T21:20:00.002-06:00

“If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself…”

~ Jesus, Mark 6:34 of the Bible

The last two weeks have flown by, laden with summer activities – from lazy afternoons spent on lakes and beaches to rigorous treks through forests and over mountains. It has given me the chance to take in the glory of this season, and the time for the lessons I have learned to make the transition from head to heart.

One of these lessons has been to find that state of balance where I can desire a good thing without being attached to it. In this I must humbly disagree with some of the great sages who have spoken of the hindrance of desires, claiming that we must let go of our desires – even the desire for enlightenment – in order to be in harmony with the workings of the universe. This is true to a certain degree; many desires lead to the kind of division that I wrote about in my last entry, in which one person seeks to possess more than another. But some desires – like the desire to act for the good of all people and not just the good of the self, or the desire to know the Truth or attain enlightenment – are of a different sort entirely.

Verse 41 of the Tao Te Ching says that “when the best seeker hears of Tao, he strives with great effort to know it.” In other words, such a person – the best kind of person, according to the text – desires to know more of the Tao. So not all desires are hindrances to enlightenment after all.

But there is a distinct difference between desiring to know the Tao and being attached to gaining knowledge of the Tao. To strive to know Truth is a healthy desire. To attempt to control how swiftly that knowledge is gained, to force one’s own will upon the process of enlightenment, to be so blinded by attaining knowledge of the Truth that one becomes unbalanced and moves out of harmony with the Tao itself… this is taking a good desire too far. It would be far simpler to strive to know the Tao and to allow that knowledge to grow naturally and organically, attaining that knowledge as it is revealed, rather than chasing after it and being frustrated in the lack of progress or, worse still, discovering something that is not Truth but calling it Truth regardless.

To put it in more relevant terms: It is like desiring a romance with a charming, intelligent, and devastatingly beautiful woman, and allowing that romance to grow and blossom naturally instead of prematurely forcing it into being, and being able to enjoy a deep and simple friendship should the romance fail to evolve. Indeed, such a friendship may turn out to be better than the romance could ever have become.

Zen Master Seung Sahn once said, “People live their whole lives with the hope that good things will always come to them… For all their lives, they go around and around and around, chasing good things, avoiding what is unpleasant. As you practice the Way, you have to give up this human route… Don’t want anything. Then your true self will be realized naturally.”

It is the acceptance of the fate that is meant to be, trusting that whatever comes to pass is in harmony with the greater symphony of the cosmos and is therefore the best of all possible worlds.

It is the delicate balance of desire without attachment, of striving for that which is good while allowing destiny to play its part in shaping that very desire.

It is nothing less than embracing uncertainty.

Community

2008-07-13T11:32:00.000-06:00

“In order to become myself I must cease to be what I always thought I wanted to be, and in order to find myself I have to go out of myself…”

~ Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

I had a discussion with a friend last week about Richard Dawkins’ book, The Selfish Gene, that presented the argument that selfishness is an evolutionary mechanism for survival of genes. It essentially states that every action we take will be tainted by selfishness to ensure the continuation of our genetic code, whether it be in ourselves or our offspring, our community or our culture. Dawkins is an author whose work is often highly controversial, but whether or not he’s a credible author is not really my concern.

What I find interesting is that this is just another assertion of the belief that people are selfish by nature. It’s not a new idea. Dawkins just puts a biological spin on it. But here again, Dawkins work isn’t my concern. This idea of our inherent selfishness is.

I’m concerned because I believe it’s true.

I can see it in the society that’s been evolving around me. I’ve been witness to people trying to find themselves by asserting their own desires in a struggle against the rest of the world, imposing their will on other people, acquiring for themselves some share of the limited resources available for consumption. All this does is emphasize the difference between those who have and those who have not. And people try to define themselves in this division.

Thomas Merton writes an elegant illustration of this condition:

I have what you have not. I am what you are not. I have taken what you have failed to take and I have seized what you could never get. Therefore you suffer and I am happy, you are despised and I am praised, you die and I live; you are nothing and I am something, and I am all the more something because you are nothing. And thus I spend my life admiring the distance between you and me; at times this even helps me to forget the other men who have what I have not and who have taken what I was too slow to take and who have seized what was beyond my reach, who are praised as I cannot be praised and who live on my death…

Someone who lives like this is merely an individual, but not a person. It is an illusion of self-awareness, in which every effort to become more real and more an individual makes the person less real and less a person, because it revolves around a lie. It is the lie we tell ourselves that we can only be real if we are separate and distinct from others, acting as if we were a different kind of person from the rest.

It is the lie I sometimes hear echoed by my soul.

If we can turn away from these lies and seek our identity in community with others, no longer finding solace in division but in unity, the fractures that separate one person from another will begin to mend as we remove the things that divide us, as common ground is discovered, as community is rebuilt. In time, humanity could be made whole.

But first we have to stop being so damnably selfish. And therein lies the problem… Turning an introspective eye inwards to my own life, I don’t even know where to begin.

What can change the nature of a man?

I don’t know. I don’t have the answer to that question. Maybe I don’t even need to know for change to take place. What I do know is that I’ve a long road ahead of me… and that makes me all the more thankful for friends to share the journey with.

Here’s to unity.

Truly Blessed

2008-07-04T21:44:00.001-06:00

Another week has passed, and I have yet to be possessed of that spark of inspiration to ignite my creative energies. I thought briefly of soldiering on regardless, but to force myself to write when I have nothing to write about strikes me as intuitively wrong. Something to do with letting go of my desires and allowing my spiritual growth to be more organic…

Hm. Perhaps that very idea will bloom into next week’s entry.

Until then, I simply want to express my gratitude to the force of deity or destiny that has brought me a multitude of blessings, such that I have been surrounded by them for my whole life, and have noticed in particular abundance over the past few weeks. I am talking, of course, about my friends – those whose paths I have stumbled upon by fate or fortune, with whom I may share the road for a time. I am made better and brighter because of them.

So, to my friends – and you who read this will know who you are – thank you. Words cannot express my gratitude for all that you have brought into my life: wisdom, inspiration, companionship, joy and laughter… Much of who I am can be traced back to your influence, in ways indescribable and unfathomable, such that I doubt you even realized how great your impact would be. But you have left your marks upon my soul, and I bear them with pride, for yours is the work that will last forever.

Thomas Merton once wrote that identity is found not only in God but in others. My life is a living testament to the truth of those words.

Nothing to Report

2008-06-29T21:02:00.004-06:00

I have nothing to write about this week.

I’m not entirely sure why. Perhaps it’s the heat wave that’s descended upon the city and is compelling me to spend more time outdoors, enjoying the sun and fresh air; or perhaps it’s due to the recent series of events that has kept me caught up in a flurry of activity and thus unable to devote my attentions to writing; or perhaps I am simply feeling uninspired or uncreative. Then again, I’m not sure if the reason matters all that much anyway.

All I know is that I feel a sense of deep and abiding contentment… that I could be doing everything or nothing and still find joy in it, that no matter what happens tomorrow – for good or ill – I will be able to accept it with grace. And in that same spirit I have accepted this lack of writing as a chance to reflect on the things that I have written on thus far, to ensure that my words are echoed in the way I live my life. I guess even spiritual growth cannot continue unabated without the occasional time of rest.

So rest I shall. Maybe I’ll have something new to write about next week. Until then – Viva Summer!

Not Systemic

2008-06-21T12:50:00.000-06:00

“There’s one hole in every revolution, large or small. And it’s one word long: People. No matter how big the idea they all stand under… it’s people that kill every revolution.”

~ Spider Jerusalem, Transmetropolitan

The thought occurred to me last night that we spend an immense amount of time complaining about the government. We discuss how various situations could be improved if only the system were replaced by another, more efficient one. On any given day there must be thousands of such conversations giving rise to myriad ideas of how this can be done, ranging from peaceful petitions to violent revolution.

But revolution is not a new idea. Countless revolutions have been staged in the course of human history, and each time it gives rise to a new system that leaves some people discontent. The problem does not lie with the system, then; it lies with the people who create it.

The government – any government – is merely a crutch, a necessary tool to maintain peace and order among a crippled humanity. What must be done is not to overthrow one system and raise up another that is equally flawed in its stead… that would be no more effective than replacing one crutch with another. Rather, we should tend to our wounds until the crutch is no longer needed, changing the nature of humankind until we do not need to rely on government at all.

And how do we go about mending the wounds caused by centuries of hate? That’s a question that I have no answer to. I don’t know what can change the nature of a single person, let alone the mass of humanity as a whole. All I know is that I can just do my own small part in my own small way, to strive to do as much good for as many people in as many ways as I can. And maybe, if I can’t change the world, I can at least be a positive influence on the people whose paths intersect with mine.

Change has to start somewhere. It may as well start with me.

Through a Glass Darkly

2008-06-14T22:23:00.000-06:00

The thought occurs to me that God – or, at least, my concept of God – is the single entity that knows more of the absolute Truth of the cosmos than any other creature that has existed or ever will exist.

We are limited by our perception. We cannot see the Truth of the cosmos directly, but instead perceive it through filters that allow us to make sense of the world around us. Relativity is born of the differences in perception from one individual to another. If we could begin to remove those filters, we would see more and more of the Truth free of our interpretation and misunderstanding; we would know what is really there. We would know what is.

My understanding of God is the entity that can see the Truth with unfiltered perception.

But if there are no filters between what is being observed and the observer, if the Truth is not being observed at all but truly known, then there cannot be any separation of the two. Any distance – physical or metaphorical – introduces uncertainty, the possibility of misunderstanding. So for the Truth to be known, the observer and the observed must merge into one. Thus God becomes an entity that does not merely see Truth with perfect clarity, but is itself Truth.

The entity that is God is separate and distinct from the Truth and yet is one with Truth at the same time. As a being that is one with the Truth, God must then be aware of everything that is a part of the harmony and balance of the cosmos; and as a being that is distinct from the Truth, God must be the only being that can follow the Tao perfectly, walking the Way that cannot be walked.

Perhaps this also makes God one with the Tao as well.

Perhaps God is the entity that is the Way and is the Truth.

And perhaps I am completely mistaken. For I am a finite being attempting to understand infinite things, perceiving them as though I am looking through a dark, smoke-stained window. I can only look forward to the day that the window is opened and I can see clearly that which I devote my life to.

Oh, that I might hasten that day.

Truth, the Tao, and Other Mysteries

2008-06-06T18:11:00.000-06:00

For those of you who have missed the flurry of comments on my last entry (or felt disinclined to tackle such an intimidating wall of text), my discussion with Baravis has made me realize a couple of interesting things. The first is that I haven’t quite represented my thoughts accurately. The second is that must learn how to express myself more clearly if I am to have a meaningful discussion about anything. This entry is an attempt to address both of these issues.

I previously wrote on two subjects: absolute Truth and the Tao. I’ll deal with each one in turn.

As far as absolute Truth is concerned, the example I used is fundamentally flawed because, as Baravis pointed out, aversion to killing and eating babies may well be a cultural norm and may have nothing at all to do with the absolute. Any example I use to illustrate how I understand this concept would fail for similar reasons. So instead I’ll speak from the abstract…

It strikes me as self-evident that, at the deepest possible level of reality, there is something that just is. Any philosophical argument or question must have an answer, even if that answer is inaccessible to human understanding, and that answer is the Truth. The old philosophical question of whether a falling tree makes a sound if there is no-one present to hear it must have an answer that is absolutely True, some fundamental fact about the nature of the universe.

There are those who will argue that everything is relative – that what they perceive as blue and call blue someone else will call blue but actually perceive as green. But even this indicates some kind of absolute Truth – if everything is completely relative, if I am no more than a free-floating consciousness in a void that perceives whatever I want to perceive, then the very fact that I am a mind in empty space is itself the absolute Truth of the matter. Or, to put it differently, if everything is relative, then relativity is itself the absolute Truth.

I’m not saying that this Truth is knowable. In fact, I’m claiming the opposite – that this kind of absolute Truth about the deepest possible layer of reality is so deep as to be completely beyond human comprehension. But just because it cannot be understood doesn’t mean that it’s not there. It is this kind of Truth, the facts of the universe that were there before us and will be there long after we’re gone, the existence of which is required for existence itself to exist, that I believe in. The Truth simply is, and will be regardless of what we think of it.

No, that’s not quite right. Belief is too limited a word for this. In the place that exists before belief and before thought, I know that this Truth is. I just don’t know what it is.

(My previous comment on the sum of all religious worldviews is the result of my hope that the totality of human knowledge would lead to a better understanding of Truth than what each of us would be able to reach independently. I still don’t think that this would lead to a complete picture – it would be more akin to getting a few steps further in a race that has no finish line – but it would still be better than all the senseless bickering and killing that seems to be going on in the name of the world religions.)

As for the Tao: what it represents to me is the Way that a person – indeed, all people – can live a balanced life, in harmony with each other and the universe. In other words, it is the Way in which I can live according to the Truth without ever knowing fully what the Truth is. This is no new concept; it has been espoused by Zen Buddhists, meditative Taoist monks, and contemplative Christian mystics alike. Absolute Truth is the way that the cosmos is, the way in which it remains ever-changing and seemingly chaotic but always against a backdrop of perfect balance. The Tao is the Way that we can move with this chaos yet maintain a state of fluid balance; it is the Way that defines how we can fulfill our nature and be in harmony with the Truth of Nature.

In this sense, it is not the universe that mirrors us, but we who mirror the universe. What I’m striving for is to polish the mirror, to realize my true nature and more accurately reflect the universe. It strikes me that the closer I get to being by true self, the less of myself will be seen.

But maybe that’s the point. I guess I’ll just have to see.

Absolutely

2008-05-29T22:19:00.000-06:00

“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

2008-05-24T18:32:00.001-06:00

“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

2008-05-17T05:27:00.001-06:00

“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

2008-05-09T22:23:00.000-06:00

“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

2008-05-01T19:20:00.000-06:00

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.

A Child-Like Mind

2008-04-26T17:09:00.001-06:00

“In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.”

~ Shunryu Suzuki, “Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind”

It has been said that humans are the only creatures that feel the need to be something, while all other animals can just be. I find a great deal of truth in this; everywhere you look you can see people rushing around in a frantic symphony striving to attain this promotion, win the heart of that stunning woman, achieve the highest score in this exam or that sport. Humanity seems to have this inexplicable drive to be defined by achievement or possession – just ask the next person you meet, “Who are you?” and they will answer you with dozens of things that they do or have, all of which completely fail to answer the question.

But in the efforts to define ourselves, we seem to become increasingly narrow-minded. Each new achievement or possession, each new point of definition, becomes another brick on an ever-growing wall that encases our minds – like a picture frame that just keeps getting thicker with every year that passes. Why else do older people so often claim, “I can’t do this,” or “I don’t like to do that?” When we believe that we know who we are, we restrict ourselves from experiences that don’t fit into our perceived self-image. When we believe that we know what we most desire, we ignore open doors that lead us away from that desire and close our minds to the possibilities that lie behind those doors. When we perceive ourselves as wise or knowledgeable, we cease our search to learn more.

Compare this to the mind of the child. A child doesn’t seek after anything but is open to all experiences that life has to offer; to a child all things are new and the world is full of possibilities. A child can become anything because there is no concern about being defined or, for that matter, being anything at all. A child can simply be, innocently looking upon the world with curious eyes, taking it in without bias or judgment. There is no thought of achievement, no thought of self; the mind is empty and ready and limitless. Such a mind does not say, “I am wise,” but simply ignores the self and says, “I am ready to learn.” It does not seek after enlightenment – it is not even concerned with what enlightenment is – and thus is perhaps the most enlightened mind of all.

When my mind is focused and clear and child-like, I become open to all the myriad possibilities that fate may bring, and ready to explore them without restriction or hesitation. But it doesn’t come easy to me; it’s like walking a tightrope, and I can’t keep track of the number of times I fall – but just like the tightrope walker, I know that practice will make it easier to stay balanced. So this is the most difficult part of my search for the Truth: to maintain a child-like mind, a beginner’s mind.