Friday, June 17, 2016

the courage not to be

  Paul Tillich coined the term "The Courage to Be" to refer to the faith that one's life is ontologically meaningful. I started to also think a little bit about the opposite, which I refer to as the courage 'not to be'--that is, not to necessarily affirm one's existence as a separate entity. But I think that this kind of courage needs to be explained, as it is not to be confused with nihilism, or the belief in nothing.
    For instance, does the view of 'non being' mean that one simply does nothing or sees oneself as 'a nothing'? I think this is a kind of trap, because there is a self lingering in there, namely the self that desires non-being. Non-being has a kind of effect of creating a kind of 'nihilistic self' which thinks it is alone in the universe. But when I reflect on where I have gone in my life, I don't think I could say I have ever existed totally in isolation. There are always supports beyond this body which sustain my being and are inseparable from who I am. So this courage 'not to be' could not possibly mean that I have the courage to isolate myself.
    I think a perhaps more nuanced vision of the courage to \not be' is to see that one is never separated from anything. It might therefore start with an inquiry into where 'this body' really begins and to honestly see that there is never this ultimate separation of all things. But this takes a lot of courage because it means giving up a comforting illusion in the self that chooses only pleasant things and shies away from what is uncomfortable. Actually, even discomfort is part of one's real being. But if I take all of it to be me and don't reject it, I might find that nothing is terrible, and I can face everything with a kind of happiness. But if I only identify with pleasurable experiences, I limit my sense of being, to the point where survival depends on preserving emotional comfort or pleasure.
   The important point, I think, would be not to limit who I think I am to comforting experiences, but to open up to all experiences equally. The more I can do this, the less attached I am to the comforts of approval, or always 'having my way', or even creature comforts. I think, then ,that the expression "Courage not to be" might be changed to "the courage not to take my thoughts to be me", or the courage to embrace the totality of mind.

Thursday, June 16, 2016

"Choose the Happy One"

 Fashi gave a very interesting discussion after the meditation tonight. He talked about how, as long as we do not think that the person in front of us is a separate being who is 'creating' our emotional states, we can choose how we feel and react to the situation arising in mind. But there are several conditions that need to be unpacked. The first is about the method of being fully aware of the body at all times as a way of being present. Fashi mentioned that it is not easy to use a method such as watching the breath when a person is engaged in daily conversation, but the feeling of the body's movement becomes the anchor for what a person does. As an example, I am currently using my fingers to type into the keyboard, and that becomes the main focus for my body in the moment.
    The second principle that Fashi mentioned is to know that whatever we encounter is arising in mind, so there is no reason to like or dislike what we see. Here is an example I can think of: if a person creates a terrible image, would she or he be scared by the image knowing that they created it? Another example is that if a memory comes to mind about my boss, I can know that this present experience is not interacting with the previous memory of my boss. If I am really knowing this, I can choose not to react to the image or identify the reaction as "me". As Fashi had remarked, why would I choose to be unhappy if I really know that these images are arising in mind?
    The interesting point is that even if anger were to arise, I don't identify the anger as myself. I think this is the third principle. If a person does this practice expecting to have a happy result, she or he will only feel frustration because  they are focused on the idea of 'becoming something'. I think this is the most subtle problem that can arise with spiritual practice: the expectation (and the condition) that if I do something, I will automatically feel happiness. But Fashi's point is to say that every moment is a choice to be happy. Happiness is not a result, but  a choice in the same way that we can choose to color a canvas  with either red or blue  colors. But because of conditioning, I believe that there is a tendency to see happiness as conditioned on specific things, such as having a nice job, a good education, good looks, and so on. If one re-frames the meaning of happiness as a choice, one is given a whole range of new actions and experiences that would otherwise not have arisen if one waits for happiness to happen in a passive way.

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

The Role of Pressure in Working Life

 After the group meditation tonight, someone had asked Fashi about pressure and the feeling of being pressured to perform at work. Of course, many in the GTA feel pressured just to survive, and they feel that worrying is one way to get things done more quickly and efficiently.
       I have often reflected on how I have believed that worrying makes me work more efficiently. The classic example would be related to exams. There have been times when I have lived by the adage: "as long as you keep your hand moving, you should be able to finish on time." But, as Fashi had suggested during the group discussion tonight, worry doesn't necessarily accomplish anything. More than anything else, it can actually attract the kinds of results that one fears the most. An example would be how excessive worrying can lead to making careless errors, being absent minded and going through the motions just for the sake of accomplishing something. These are exactly the kinds of behaviors that a worried mindset would encourage, but they aren't the kinds of mindsets that necessarily get things done well. I have observed especially in myself a tendency to confuse the feeling of worry with a sense of getting things done or 'moving along'. Yet, without worry, one can be more in the moment and do things smoothly with a full mindset.
  Fashi also noted that worrying about something doesn't make the problem go away. There are certain situations which are inevitable, such as when a company has to downsize and lay off even its most effective workers. No matter how hard I might try, there is a lot here that is not within my control at all. In fact, very little is within my control to begin with, and it is exactly within this point of 'no control' that a person can precisely relax into what she or he is doing in the moment. For instance, if I always believe that everything starts and ends in the organ between my ears, my whole head will be tight and strained, as though  I were trying to squeeze everything out of my brain to get something done. But in reality it seems that the things needed to accomplish things are evenly dispersed throughout the mental environment: in materials, in resources, in people around me, and even in the climate. Would I be able to even get to work if there was a tornado or a heavy snowstorm? Much of what people try to do is really a kind of response to things that have already been set, including weather and environmental conditions in the workplace. Can all or any of these factors be within one's control? If not, it is best to receive whatever can be controlled with a relaxed mindset, such as 'go with the flow'.
    One way of  looking at this problem is to approach it from the view of "everything you experience is you." Now what does this mean, exactly? If I feel worry, I might automatically think, "I am that worry", and keep continuing to be worried. But if I trust and understand that the worry is only one part of an unfolding and changing experience, will I hold so tightly to that worry? Am I really 'worry'? Am I not also the boss, the environment, the plants, the work? All these things exist in mind and through mind, so they are said to be part of me. So why do I only focus on one thing at the exclusion of all the others? In this way, I can embrace worry as part of me without identifying it as 'me'. I think the important aspect is to have a way of knowing that what I am aware of doesn't exclusively define awareness or foreclose it.

Monday, June 13, 2016

Seeing with the Mind

  What does it really mean, to see with the mind? I was reflecting on this idea after Fashi's retreat in the past 3 days. I think about it from the perspective of Gestalt: what I see already contains a structure which is not in any external phenomena. When I see a cat, I am not just seeing a four legged creature with feline features. I am also seeing my previous experiences of other cats, my interaction with them and my habitual responses to them. All of this happens so quickly that in a sense, I am unaware that it was created by all these previous causes and conditions. It is as though the cat comes to me in a pre-packaged form, with all the emotions I would expect in my response to a cat.
     If I really stop to reflect, there is always a kind of nuanced background in every experience. I might think that something is terrible or good, but both responses are the result of very complicated processing. I am often inadvertently bringing my previous thoughts into the present situation without realizing that it is coming from the past thoughts stored in mind. Fashi had mentioned during the retreat that whenever a person sees another person, that seeing contains all the previous karma the two have had with each other. I interact with the previous experience, not with the person in front of me. So in that moment, there are things I can do and choices I can make. I can either go back to the same habit of seeing, or I can simply generate new thoughts or conditions. I am never bound to the past thought. Fashi also used the example of language to demonstrate this idea. When I put together the sentence, "Hello, I am Keith", I am connecting the "Hello" with "I" and so on, without realizing that "Hello" has already passed. I connect the things together to make a single sentence, but I never realize that this 'sense' I am making is not coming from the sentence itself but from my habit of joining the words together to generate meaning. Not only this, but I also take this "I am Keith" (a name, a label) to be the true being that is aware, rather than seeing it only as a word. It seems that we are making these kinds of assumptions all the time, never quite realizing that they are 'so' because we make them so.
     Another example might be the word 'queer'. At one time, "queer" was used in a way to isolate homosexuality. Nowadays, the word is used in a much more positive way to challenge dominant social norms. Is the word good or bad? The meaning of the word is always changing based on the contexts that people individually and collectively create around it. If I see it in this way, there is nothing that can be 'said' about anything that is ever absolute, because words are only creations of the mind. Just as we create a context and meaning around one word, so we can also create multiple and very different meanings around the same word or sound. Another example: even though the word 'grass' tends to evoke something that grows on the ground and is green, it can also refer to 'grass jelly' or 'lemon grass', all of which don't refer to this image in the mind of what I think grass 'means'.
     So what can one do with this? I think that in order not to be entangled in the mind's creations, it's important to use meditative methods to anchor the mind, and simply not to get lost in connecting things together to make meanings. There needs to be a space of awareness that is not stuck to meanings, in order to realize that meanings are creations of mind. The second is to get into the habit of looking for what is aware, rather than being attached to objects of awareness or taking them to be the self.

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Learning from the 3 day retreat

  The three day meditation retreat has just passed, and I felt overall renewed by the experience. I would have to say that it is something that doesn't quite sink in until I am back in Toronto and seeing how distracting city life can be compared to the retreat environment. There was part of me that did feel quite changed by this experience, though I can't quite put my finger on it. Altogether, I would say that I suffered my share of back, knee and thigh pains, and there were times when it was hard for me to stay on the method of my practice. And there were also times when these feelings discouraged me, and made me wonder how far I can really go with practice. Yet still, in spite of all these misgivings, I found the retreat to be an essential experience for me, because it grounds me in an awareness of where I am really at with practice. I am hesitant to say that my practice is not as good as I wish it to be. But then, the point of this experience is not necessarily to measure oneself, but to let go of all measurements.
     Fashi was quite clear about not getting stuck in identifying with our thoughts. He used the example of how meditation practitioners tend to want to eliminate scattered thoughts and replace them with clear mind. But in reality, both 'scattered thoughts' and 'clear mind' are in themselves results of the mind. It's not that the mind is closer to 'clear' than it is to 'scattered', but that in fact, both states of mind are equally true mind. So there is no need to be uncomfortable with these states of being, but to see that they are both emanations of the same mind. Another interesting point is that no matter what we experience in meditation, that experience is already a kind of object of the mind. It has no ability to be aware, so in that sense it is not the real mind. To know this is to say that nothing we ever can settle for in meditation is ever the real mind. Meditation is always about seeing past the barriers of thought into something that can never be captured by thoughts themselves.
    Is it possible for a person to be 'terrible' at meditation? I often had this thought when I was in retreat this weekend, simply because it was quite hard for me to settle at the beginning. But even this 'being terrible' is a thought, and if I were to grasp at it, it would only lead me to argue with the other thought that says "you're not so bad". In fact, I kept fluctuating between feeling resigned and then feeling determined to get back into an uncomfortable sitting position to 'hash it out'. But the actual true mind has nothing to do with these discomforts and misgivings. It is more about seeing that every thought is in the same ocean and has the same substance as water. One needn't pick and choose, and the joy of meditation is relaxing in the knowledge that all thoughts have the same essential origin, even though they may display very different things.

Thursday, June 9, 2016

Bestowal

 After group meditation tonight, I was thinking about the discussion we had around thoughts being somehow beyond ''good and bad', 'true' and 'mistaken'. From a perspective of absolute mind, there is no such thing as a truly 'mistaken' thought, because all thoughts are in the moment: they are not interacting with past or future thoughts, so there is nothing to compare them to. Have you ever had a situation where you were so convinced that something was 'true', only to later realize that there is some key evidence somewhere that renders it untrue? It's not that 'true' became 'untrue'. It's that you once had a thought of something being true, and then the conditions changed where a new thought arose to say, 'this is not true'. In fact, true and untrue simply don't arise in the pure thought itself. It's only in comparing thoughts that we develop these distinctions of true and not true thought.
    It reminds me of the long-standing debate about whether a person is esteemed for their own sake or for the sake of the one who is esteeming the other. Is it an actual person who determines whether they are 'good or bad' to someone else? Actually, people don't affect our judgments, since the judgments of what are good and bad come from our own mind as "esteemers" (or as beholders). Hence, there is an expression: "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder". More often than not, one's judgments about others are based on comparison with memories or older thoughts. Have I ever made a judgment over something I see after meditation? Well, what I notice during longer retreats is that the mind is less prone to making judgments, because it is simply in the moment, and not comparing the current thought to a memory or a previous one. As soon as I do compare thoughts over time or string them together, I 'story' the experiences I am having, by populating my mind with connections between one phenomena and another. Once the mind is calm and clear, there is not even a sense of needing to connect one thought to another. It's a bit strange, but it seems that only a very agitated mind is in the habit of putting thoughts together and making judgments around those thoughts.
    But to go back to the question, from the perspective of true nature of mind, is there really a 'good' or 'bad' thought? It s only when one is caught up in distinctions across different thought that there is even a perceived necessity of preferring one thought to the other. But in doing this, we create castles in the sand, because all thoughts are continually changing. Imagine trying to perfect a sandcastle! That is what we do when we try to shape our awareness according to the thoughts we tend to like the most.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Contemplation

 Tonight after the group sitting, Guo Xing Fashi shared about the two methods of concentration and contemplation, and how the two connect. I learned that concentration (samatha) is normally the first stage of trying to fix the mind on a particular object, such as the breath. Fashi mentioned that it's best if the object be simple--even to the point of boring--before the mind can be relieved of many desires and stimulations. When the mind is calm and settled into a particular object, it can the illuminate all things evenly as they are. This stage is known as 'contemplation', where the practitioner starts to see the real nature of experiences in light of the mind that illuminates them. Things no longer seem so emotionally laden, 'sticky' or in a person's face when they start to practice in this way. Another expression that Fashi used at this point is the 'effortless effort'. This concept refers to the notion of not taking things to be so 'in one's face' real that one starts to attach to them. For example, we might see the image of someone with whom we had difficulties and then start fighting with the image. The shortcut is to see that the image is not the true situation, any more than a rope is a snake.
    It's much harder, it seems, to investigate the mind in daily life. Fashi had noted that unlike with contemplation, investigation is a more direct search for the essence of mind, not connected with phenomena. We are said to 'contemplate' impermanence, but 'investigating' mind is much more subtle. One way is to simply ask the question: who is having this experience? Getting into the habit of doing so in all situations can help a person see that things aren't so integrally connected in a big story line. In fact, it loosens the tendency to  try to see things in terms of one big story where the ego is in complete control.
    I have found that it's difficult at times to create the conditions for calm equanimity. When meditating, I simply cannot force things into being a certain way. And I find that if my tendency in daily life is to hold tight onto certain fixed interpretations or timelines, I will sometimes extend this same mentality into meditation practice. There are times when, in using the method, I want to get rid of all the difficult  or distracting things that arise, and I end up pointing to something that I don't even know exists to help me. But I see the method that Fashi is describing more as not seeing phenomena as opposed to the method, and not trying to even expect anything from the method itself. In this way, all those difficult states of being can be transformed into awareness, rather than being rejected or suppressed. It is like discovering everyday functions of the mind for the first time.