A Return to Santideva...

  Now, after all the tussle of the past few months, where did I leave off in my writing about Santideva? In fact, I might ask the more fundamental question, why Santideva? Maybe this is the more interesting question to ask, since I often wonder whether it's good to look up to any philosopher for insights or points of view, or if perhaps it's better to go on one's own and find what is true to themselves.
    This little dilemma I have reminds me of a scene in the movie adaptation of Siddartha (the Herman Hesse novel), where the main character, a kind of Buddha figure, suddenly realizes that he cannot rest content with what others have taught him. In an act of defiance, he yells something to the effect of "I have to follow my own heart!', upon which he rejects all authority and decides to look for truth away from all institutions. Siddartha was written at a time when Buddhism was relatively new to the West, and I see it as an interpretation of some aspect of Zen that might have been popular sometime in the 60s or 70s. Zen must have been an intriguing possibility to many in the West at that time, precisely because of its mystery and being from another culture entirely. But I do have to wonder, is the truth always to be found in one's own heart, or do we sometimes need to go to other people's hearts for guidance? I believe it's certainly a balance between the former and the latter, although I haven't quite figured out where that balance lies. The romantic notion of the lone individual who finds her or his own truth in isolation seems like a thing of the past. Somehow, I get a real sense that there needs to be a community or two which allows a person to find that truth.
    When I read Santideva's writings, am I relating to him as an authority? I haven't yet come to the point of asking myself, 'what would Santideva say in this situation?' I see Santideva as someone who, like myself, seems to have written in order to remind himself of the things that are most valuable to him. In that sense, I like the idea of writing to remind oneself, because it can transform writing away from venting emotions toward something that is trying actively to relate one's experiences and emotions to some principle or idea one is wrestling with. In this way, rather than following a teacher blindly, the exploration of that teacher's writings becomes a kind of
    I have, so far, not yet really gone into Santideva's writings. Perhaps this makes the title of my blog deceiving. But since I am making up for the lost blogs of this past month, I will return to Santideva shortly.