The story of Medusa continues to inspire me, ever since I first became acquainted with it through the popular 1981 movie Clash of the Titans. I was quite enthralled as a child to see the then "state of the art" technology through which Medusa is portrayed. Looking back on it now, as a teacher who is about to prepare a class on "Heroes" to young students, I am not so sure whose side I am on anymore, and sometimes I am more inclined to sympathize with Medusa than with Perseus. After all, as the story explains, Perseus sets out to slay Medusa on a dare from a rather foolish king named Polydectes. In this fashion, Medusa is slain without much more motive than, say, showing off (literally) one's exploits and proving the protagonist's mettle as a heroic figure in Greek mythology. If there were any figure to be pitied, perhaps it would indeed be Medusa, who is punished with very "hideous" looks (again, subjective) by a goddess who despises her bragging. Needless to say, many of the stories of the gods and goddesses relate fascinating tussles that are inspired mostly by jealousy.
But to compare this myth in the light of Chan, I sometimes ask myself, what does the story of Medusa tell us about the mind? The key to the story is the theme of "reflection" or seeing one's image in the mirror. Medusa's downfall is that her nemesis has a shield which prevents him from seeing directly into Medusa's face; the shield also contains a mirror which allows Perseus to see Medusa's image without seeing her face "directly". Does any of this remind the Chan practitioner of any analogies in Surangama Sutra, such as the finger that points to the moon, or the moon's reflection itself? For Perseus, seeing the image as an image dis-empowers the gaze of Medusa. Because the mirror is only a construction or an appearance, Perseus doesn't actually succumb to the effect of Medusa's powers.
I believe that this story speaks to two particular aspects of Chan practice. One is about seeing the nature of the mind, particularly the tendency to take things around us to be "real" meaning static, permanent and independent entities. This permanence grants power to what is otherwise only an appearance that is fleeting and has no permanence. I am sure that people have had the experience at some point of being in a dream where they feel that they are falling or tripping over something, after which they have a knee jerk reaction that makes their body try to "balance" itself. Once the person recognizes the dream for what it is, the sense of falling is also seen as a reaction to an appearance in a dream. Unless the person falls back into the power of the dream itself, they will not succumb to the belief that what they "tripped on" was a real thing that exists outside the mind.
The second aspect speaks to the tendency for humans to believe that they are engaging independent beings, instead of thoughts. This often happens in cases where a person is angry from a fight or conversely feeling "good" about someone else. Even when the person is no longer present, the person will often bring up thoughts about them and take these thoughts as the actual existence of the person in front of them. To know that these thoughts aren't actual people is like having a shield that shows the reflections of things as only reflections, not "actual" beings. It is sometimes scary to realize that most of our days are spent interacting with thoughts instead of with "real" persons but it can be liberating in the sense that one is no longer enmeshed in a never ending conversation with their thoughts.
Friday, November 30, 2018
Thursday, November 29, 2018
Walking Out Loud
Subway reading is one of the most interesting ways to pass the time. But what is it about a moving train that ignites one's relationship with reading? I can only speak for myself, since not everyone totes their book on the subway, but I do think it has a lot to do with the way my thinking depends on a sense of motion. In fact, even as early as age 5 or 6, moving around and walking from place to place was the way for me to go into deeper reflections.
This doesn't mean that walking is the only way to stimulate thinking. In fact, I do believe that part of the magic of walking is also in its contrast with sitting. "Sitting" and "walking" are contrastive metaphors for the process of thinking. While one is about focus, the other is more about range. If I am only "sitting on" one topic, I often find myself stuck on a problem that a movement will allow me to emerge from. "Walking" offers a metaphor through which a shift can be made from one topic to another.
When we do the sitting and walking meditation, we are essentially engaging in a contrastive approach as well; sitting, is our mind really still? Walking, is the mind really moving? When one examines the mind in both stillness and motion, they might begin to see that it is neither this nor that.
This doesn't mean that walking is the only way to stimulate thinking. In fact, I do believe that part of the magic of walking is also in its contrast with sitting. "Sitting" and "walking" are contrastive metaphors for the process of thinking. While one is about focus, the other is more about range. If I am only "sitting on" one topic, I often find myself stuck on a problem that a movement will allow me to emerge from. "Walking" offers a metaphor through which a shift can be made from one topic to another.
When we do the sitting and walking meditation, we are essentially engaging in a contrastive approach as well; sitting, is our mind really still? Walking, is the mind really moving? When one examines the mind in both stillness and motion, they might begin to see that it is neither this nor that.
Tuesday, November 27, 2018
Work Life Balance
I am not at all an expert on this topic, but I wanted to share a few thoughts I have about it. Many people believe that they have no choice but to put work before their own existence simply because they reason, "If not me, who else will do this job?" I find that this latter question is a noble one, in the sense that it doesn't shift blame or responsibility to others when it comes to doing work that needs to be done. However, I have recently observed in myself this fine line between seeing something as needing to be done and seeing that actually I am creating some of this urgency in myself. Even when a company is strapped for time and resources, there is in fact never a time when a person direly needs to do anything to survive. Want to? Yes. Is this additional work I might be taking on an asset to keeping this job? Of course. But one is never ever forced to go beyond what they are reasonably capable of doing to make those ends meet. It's only when a person starts to imagine that they absolutely must exceed all their targets that this "nice" and "want to" becomes a dire need to one's mind. So, one must always ask the question, is it really that I need to do all of this, or is this should only representing an ideal that is shared (albeit temporarily and tentatively) between manager and employees?
I think it's important to reflect that every goal that takes place in the workplace is really designed to maximize human potential in the face of a collective vision or goal. It is not about stretching oneself, but rather there is an ideal there which represents how the organization might benefit from someone's dedicated work. But when taken to extremes, ideals can sometimes lead to human exhaustion or even a creative exhaustion, realizing that too much of anything can become a kind of deadening routine over time. That's why it's important that people ask themselves whether working hard and fast is always conducive to a healthy mind and body.
I think it's important to reflect that every goal that takes place in the workplace is really designed to maximize human potential in the face of a collective vision or goal. It is not about stretching oneself, but rather there is an ideal there which represents how the organization might benefit from someone's dedicated work. But when taken to extremes, ideals can sometimes lead to human exhaustion or even a creative exhaustion, realizing that too much of anything can become a kind of deadening routine over time. That's why it's important that people ask themselves whether working hard and fast is always conducive to a healthy mind and body.
Monday, November 26, 2018
In the Spirit of Evaluation
Marking student assignments can be quite an ordeal until one realizes that they are students: that is, there are actual people who need feedback and even a bit of recognition for each assignment they submit. Many teachers might operate from the assumption that students are only submitting assignments for that dry number called a grade. Since I am not at all grading my own students for the Saturday classes, I cannot fall back on this answer, so my feedback has to take the form of thoughtful comments that reflect what the students actually wrote. And, as time consuming as this has proven to be even for such a small group of students, I have found some gratification in being able to look more closely at how the student's writing reflects themselves and their true interests and inclinations.
Feedback often feels "secondary", because the teacher essentially comments on a student's writing, in much the same way that a movie reviewer might comment on someone else's movie. There are times when, even as someone who has been asked to write reference letters for friends and colleagues, I wonder whether all of my comments mean anything considering that the creators will create whatever they wish regardless of my comments. But the point is that when I am actively commenting on a part of a student's writing that seems interesting or noteworthy, I am also thinking about my genuine connection with the student, and this actually contributes to the classroom dynamic. For one, I am showing a certain level of care and commitment when I take the time to actively comment on a students' writing. For another, the process of doing so really forces me to consider how I authentically connect with the students' writing, from the tiniest punctuation detail to the deftest stylistic move.
Feedback often feels "secondary", because the teacher essentially comments on a student's writing, in much the same way that a movie reviewer might comment on someone else's movie. There are times when, even as someone who has been asked to write reference letters for friends and colleagues, I wonder whether all of my comments mean anything considering that the creators will create whatever they wish regardless of my comments. But the point is that when I am actively commenting on a part of a student's writing that seems interesting or noteworthy, I am also thinking about my genuine connection with the student, and this actually contributes to the classroom dynamic. For one, I am showing a certain level of care and commitment when I take the time to actively comment on a students' writing. For another, the process of doing so really forces me to consider how I authentically connect with the students' writing, from the tiniest punctuation detail to the deftest stylistic move.
Sunday, November 25, 2018
More on Demonic States
While reading Surangama Sutra's chapter on demonic states of mind arising from sense perception, a lot of things come to mind. I sometimes wonder what is the correct "balance" between trying to overcome the temptations of the senses and not attaching to the overcoming itself. In one's day to day life, one must continually interact with phenomena as phenomena. For instance, if I am seeing the sign for the black Friday sale, I am truly going to see it in all its enticements. To "turn away" from the sign thinking that this will help me overcome my temptation to shop..is this truly spiritual practice? Or is it perhaps more "spiritual" for me to not turn away from phenomena, even if it's tempting to become attached to it? I believe that there is a middle path between these two extremes of wanting to indulge the senses and trying to dull the mind from senses altogether.
For myself, I have found that the strong sense of "I" is the real heart of temptation, not the phenomena itself. When I am attached to the sense of a self that wants to satisfy itself, all the phenomena become a source of vexation, because the self attaches some meaning to the phenomena. On a subconscious level, the phenomena are not just seen "as they are" but become either additions or subtractions to this sense of self. If I am looking at the irritation as coming from the self, I am not seeing the phenomena for what it is, but I am attaching instead to the associations I create with respect to it. To see something for what it is...what does this mean other than to see it as not fettered with one's personal meanings around it?
For myself, I have found that the strong sense of "I" is the real heart of temptation, not the phenomena itself. When I am attached to the sense of a self that wants to satisfy itself, all the phenomena become a source of vexation, because the self attaches some meaning to the phenomena. On a subconscious level, the phenomena are not just seen "as they are" but become either additions or subtractions to this sense of self. If I am looking at the irritation as coming from the self, I am not seeing the phenomena for what it is, but I am attaching instead to the associations I create with respect to it. To see something for what it is...what does this mean other than to see it as not fettered with one's personal meanings around it?
Saturday, November 24, 2018
From Darkness to Wholeness
Many heroic journeys seem to follow a typical pattern of defeating monsters and moving toward a kind of projected prize. It is as though somehow the "gain" were separate from the actual process of moving through one's difficulties. I beg to differ and suggest that what we call "monsters" are actually projections of things that we don't necessarily savor about ourselves that we haven't properly integrated into our personalities. Our lives are repeated efforts to reintegrate lost or dislodged inner material--and when I mean "dislodged", I am literally describing the book that gets lodged between the bookshelf and the wall by mistake! Sometimes things that were meant to lead to a fully adjusting person just get stuck between those cracks, and never truly function quite as desired. However, perhaps from a developmental perspective, there are always these chances in life that they lead to new growth possibilities later down the road.
To use the analogy of, say, a seed that accidentally gets lodged into a crack between one thing and another: trees will grow no matter whether their seeds are planted in convenient or inconvenient spaces. Whether or not they integrate well in the rest of the environment...well, that's a slightly different story. But the point is that growth is there, and it intermingles with the environment in ways that create creative collaborations and symbiosis, to the point where one can no longer define with any certainty how a tree is ideally meant to grow. But when the right moments come together, there are new insights that allow a person to transform their potentials in new ways. I believe that a combination of inner effort and outer serendipity is needed for these things to come together.
To use the analogy of, say, a seed that accidentally gets lodged into a crack between one thing and another: trees will grow no matter whether their seeds are planted in convenient or inconvenient spaces. Whether or not they integrate well in the rest of the environment...well, that's a slightly different story. But the point is that growth is there, and it intermingles with the environment in ways that create creative collaborations and symbiosis, to the point where one can no longer define with any certainty how a tree is ideally meant to grow. But when the right moments come together, there are new insights that allow a person to transform their potentials in new ways. I believe that a combination of inner effort and outer serendipity is needed for these things to come together.
Friday, November 23, 2018
Immanence and Its Risks
In the last several years, I consider myself to be exploring an "imminent" spiritual life. When I refer to "immanent", I am actually talking about seeing the world and all its activities as inseparable from the mind itself. It's not that I take the spirit on the one hand and separate it from daily life; on the contrary, daily life is identical to the spiritual principle itself, to the point where I can never take myself out of a life of mind or spirit. The danger or risk of this approach is that it can lead to a sense of permissiveness, or "letting things happen" without an accompanying awareness of what is happening and why. For this reason, certain principles still need to be observed in mindfulness.
For example,it's not just what am seeing that's important in mindfulness practice, but being aware of how I am approaching what I see. Do I take things to be so real that I start to interact with them, or do I see these phenomena as arising because of the way the mind is functioning? If I am truly mindful, it's not just the objects I am aware of but also the relationships I am forming and how these relationships can be a form of suffering if they mistaken things as tangible and permanent.
A very good example we can take from Surangama Sutra is the tendency to attribute discrete powers to certain things. A "lamp" is said to be a "source of light", and one tends to point to a lamp as an example of something that originates light. However,in reality, a whole lot of conditions are needed to make the light perform this function: one needs space to transmit the light, a mind that sees the light, eyes, and even an unobstructed area. Without all these conditions, could light exist? In the same way, I might attribute frustration to a specific stimulus, yet not realize that part of my aversion to it is mental associations I have accumulated over the years which have been triggered by seeing that stimulus. These associations are not automatically contained in the object, but they are imposed on it by a process of mental bestowal.
Some people might see mindfulness as simply a kind of "seeing things as they are", but it's more complicated than this. Mindfulness itself comes from specific spiritual traditions which do have aims to liberate people from a state of suffering in the world. This doesn't come from simply accepting everything passively, but requires an ability to unearth the mental dynamics that contribute to suffering in the first place, including the tendency to cling to one's experiences. If I mistakenly believe that mindfulness is only a state of acquiescing to experience, I fail to realize how I am actively constructing experiences themselves and even setting mental traps for myself, resulting in more suffering.
For example,it's not just what am seeing that's important in mindfulness practice, but being aware of how I am approaching what I see. Do I take things to be so real that I start to interact with them, or do I see these phenomena as arising because of the way the mind is functioning? If I am truly mindful, it's not just the objects I am aware of but also the relationships I am forming and how these relationships can be a form of suffering if they mistaken things as tangible and permanent.
A very good example we can take from Surangama Sutra is the tendency to attribute discrete powers to certain things. A "lamp" is said to be a "source of light", and one tends to point to a lamp as an example of something that originates light. However,in reality, a whole lot of conditions are needed to make the light perform this function: one needs space to transmit the light, a mind that sees the light, eyes, and even an unobstructed area. Without all these conditions, could light exist? In the same way, I might attribute frustration to a specific stimulus, yet not realize that part of my aversion to it is mental associations I have accumulated over the years which have been triggered by seeing that stimulus. These associations are not automatically contained in the object, but they are imposed on it by a process of mental bestowal.
Some people might see mindfulness as simply a kind of "seeing things as they are", but it's more complicated than this. Mindfulness itself comes from specific spiritual traditions which do have aims to liberate people from a state of suffering in the world. This doesn't come from simply accepting everything passively, but requires an ability to unearth the mental dynamics that contribute to suffering in the first place, including the tendency to cling to one's experiences. If I mistakenly believe that mindfulness is only a state of acquiescing to experience, I fail to realize how I am actively constructing experiences themselves and even setting mental traps for myself, resulting in more suffering.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)