One of the best things about traveling is meeting people from different backgrounds, who engage with the world in very different ways. The more I've seen, the more I've come to understand there really is no 'right' way to live. For a long time, I've mostly believed this, with small doubts surfacing every now and then. But when you're around - and become friends with - people who approach life in a way that conflicts with your own ideas about how life "should" be lived, you have to continually confront the notion that the way you see things may not be the only 'right' way to move through this world.
I think this notion is obvious to most people. At least on an intellectual level. But Ive found myself challenged by some of these different approaches to life, to the point where I react negatively because I don't think I can possibly accept some of these lifestyles as equal to my own. And so I resist them, and think of them as confused, as inferior. Surely these people are just confused, misguided. After all, what they're saying doesn't line up with what I believe, and I know my lifestyle has brought so much good to my life and those around me. It must be right.
That's how I started out. Since then, the constant exposure to lifestyles that were previously beyond my understanding have come more into focus. It's not that I necessarily believe them, but I can see the benefits gained from. The benefits may even be the same I gain from a completely different (perhaps opposite) approach, or they may be different, based on a different value set.
I've undergone many changes in my thinking thanks to deep conversations with some wonderful travel partners, most originally strangers, now friends. Once again, I'm indebted to the openness and kindness of strangers. A recent conversation with a new friend pushed my thinking yet again, challenging me to reconsider notions I considered foundational to my very core. I've had a couple revelations like this in my life before. The beauty is that each time, though it shakes me in a way that unsettles things in myself I considered to be stable, at the same time it grounds me deeper, gives me more solid footing. Someone once told me that the most profound revelations in life don't come from someone teaching you something new. They come from pointing something out to you that you've known all along, but didn't yet see. It's the experience of touching something so integral to your being that you feel "at home." And there, you can rest.
In order to make yourself available to such an experience (because it truly is experience that finds you when you're ready, not you seeking out and finding the experience) you must be open to possibility, even when that makes you uncomfortable or challenges your preconceived notions. One zen saying describes us as cups. If you want to have your cup (yourself) filled, you must first empty it. You must rid yourself of preconceptions, of judgments, of stagnant notions of right and wrong, good and bad. You must be open to experience, to possibility. Only then can you receive what the world, what others, what life is offering you. The usefulness of a cup is in its emptiness. By emptying ourselves, we become useful. To ourselves and to others.
In that spirit, what I'm about to share contains things that will probably strike at nerves for some, and confuse others. That's always inevitable. I reference Hindu religious stories and concepts we view as tabboo in the US, but know little about. A few days ago, a lot of this would have turned me off. But there are many paths to the same point. This is just my experience, and given that this is my blog where I describe the most profound events in my travels, this is an apt place for it. I should also mention that these words are derived from extended conversations over the past 2 days. Many thanks to those who helped bring them out of me.
The primary thing that hit me as a result of this conversation was that through living according to buddhist philosophy I might be missing out on something big. This something may be present - and indeed emphasized - in another philosophy, that of tantra. The idea that stuck with me, because it reflected small doubts I'd had about Buddhism from the beginning, related to the expression of emotions. In Buddhism, you detach from your emotions. They are not you. They are something to learn from, but they will not guide you to enlightenment. Whereas, in tantra - which views every aspect of life as god - the emotion IS you, and therefore is something that deserves your attention and energy, it deserves to be expressed. Emotions are things to be celebrated. You do recognize the transitory nature of emotion, and in that way you are not overwhelmed with despair when they are negative, but the difference is that you RIDE the emotions, allowing yourself to fully experience the ups and downs, rather than remaining in the middle, as is taught in the 'middle way' of Buddhism.
Related to this is love, an aspect of Buddhism I never wholly agreed with. Buddhist thought says you should love everyone equally, be attached to no one in particular, for that leads to suffering. In tantra, given that everyone and everything you feel is another manifestation of god - and therefore all is holy - to love fully and let yourself go in that feeling is one of the highest forms of living.
In tantra, you can achieve this blissful state on earth, in basic experience, through any practice. For instance, for the Hare Krishnas it's music. They sing and sway and dance as a collective and become part of something larger through this communal experience that is inherently physical, visceral. For the bodhisattva Hanuman, it was service. He descended from bliss into the world of experience to serve Rama and Sita, central characters in Hindu religion and philosophy. After he finished, Shiva - a powerful Hindu god - asked him to return to bliss. He refused, saying that he instead would remain in the world of experience in order to help others achieve the bliss he had achieved. That was his passion. For me, it might be love. It might be giving yourself so fully to an emotion that it redefines not only how you understand yourself, but your relation with those around you, and the very nature of existence. Kahlil Gibran said it best when he wrote of love,
"When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart."
Some myths/stories help illuminate the importance of fully investing yourself in experience, in emotion, rather than holding out for something else that "transcends experience." One is the story of the creation of Shakti from Shiva. Shiva is this really important Hindu god, and Shakti is his counterpart. The idea is that Shiva split himself into 2 parts just so that he could "see" himself again, meaning he wanted to appreciate the beauty of his being, his existence, anew. Sitting in a blissful state that transcends experience, he willingly chose to reenter the reality we currently experience, this physical, tangible world. The idea is that he created it, yet it is part of him. This reality, this form of existence, is known as Shakti. It is at once part of him, and yet separate. My mind goes to Christianity, where Jesus is at once thought to be a man of the physical world, yet also one with god, god himself. Ultimately, Shiva threw himself from bliss into experience, so that he could find himself again, and thus appreciate existence in a novel way. Shiva and Shakti are counterparts, separate, and yet the same. When these two are united or aligned, bliss meets with physical experience and we become whole. We at once recognize our divine nature, and how that divine nature is present in every aspect our lives.
For me, that story of Shiva/Shakti helps me reconcile the possibility of god with that of a universe we understand as chaotic, where both wonderful and terribly sad things occur. People often question how the most saddening, terrible, unbelievable events could come to pass, if there truly was a god. Here, one can replace "god" with any concept or sentiment reflecting connection or beauty in the world, of existence.
You have a perfect being that is aware of its blissful state, yet realizes this is just one facet of the wonder of experience. And this being has the power to "hit a button" and initiate something new, to create and throw itself into the chaos of experience, where it will experience ups and downs that do not occur in this blissful state. It will hurt, terribly so at some points. But it will also be incredibly joyful. And through this process, this being will come to understand and appreciate this bliss anew, rather than simply sitting in that state for eternity. It's the idea that, in order to appreciate the truly marvelous things in this world, they must be contrasted with the truly terrible. Or, in order to fully appreciate love, we must know what it is like to feel the pain of love lost. This is the rationale for creating what we perceive as an "imperfect" world, containing "imperfect" life. The truth is, nothing about any of it is imperfect. If you didn't understand the concept of dark, you wouldn't know light if you saw it. What we experience is indeed perfect. It is just the ongoing process of each of us trying to rediscover the perfection in ourselves, which is always there, if we're willing to look.
I think this notion is obvious to most people. At least on an intellectual level. But Ive found myself challenged by some of these different approaches to life, to the point where I react negatively because I don't think I can possibly accept some of these lifestyles as equal to my own. And so I resist them, and think of them as confused, as inferior. Surely these people are just confused, misguided. After all, what they're saying doesn't line up with what I believe, and I know my lifestyle has brought so much good to my life and those around me. It must be right.
That's how I started out. Since then, the constant exposure to lifestyles that were previously beyond my understanding have come more into focus. It's not that I necessarily believe them, but I can see the benefits gained from. The benefits may even be the same I gain from a completely different (perhaps opposite) approach, or they may be different, based on a different value set.
I've undergone many changes in my thinking thanks to deep conversations with some wonderful travel partners, most originally strangers, now friends. Once again, I'm indebted to the openness and kindness of strangers. A recent conversation with a new friend pushed my thinking yet again, challenging me to reconsider notions I considered foundational to my very core. I've had a couple revelations like this in my life before. The beauty is that each time, though it shakes me in a way that unsettles things in myself I considered to be stable, at the same time it grounds me deeper, gives me more solid footing. Someone once told me that the most profound revelations in life don't come from someone teaching you something new. They come from pointing something out to you that you've known all along, but didn't yet see. It's the experience of touching something so integral to your being that you feel "at home." And there, you can rest.
In order to make yourself available to such an experience (because it truly is experience that finds you when you're ready, not you seeking out and finding the experience) you must be open to possibility, even when that makes you uncomfortable or challenges your preconceived notions. One zen saying describes us as cups. If you want to have your cup (yourself) filled, you must first empty it. You must rid yourself of preconceptions, of judgments, of stagnant notions of right and wrong, good and bad. You must be open to experience, to possibility. Only then can you receive what the world, what others, what life is offering you. The usefulness of a cup is in its emptiness. By emptying ourselves, we become useful. To ourselves and to others.
In that spirit, what I'm about to share contains things that will probably strike at nerves for some, and confuse others. That's always inevitable. I reference Hindu religious stories and concepts we view as tabboo in the US, but know little about. A few days ago, a lot of this would have turned me off. But there are many paths to the same point. This is just my experience, and given that this is my blog where I describe the most profound events in my travels, this is an apt place for it. I should also mention that these words are derived from extended conversations over the past 2 days. Many thanks to those who helped bring them out of me.
The primary thing that hit me as a result of this conversation was that through living according to buddhist philosophy I might be missing out on something big. This something may be present - and indeed emphasized - in another philosophy, that of tantra. The idea that stuck with me, because it reflected small doubts I'd had about Buddhism from the beginning, related to the expression of emotions. In Buddhism, you detach from your emotions. They are not you. They are something to learn from, but they will not guide you to enlightenment. Whereas, in tantra - which views every aspect of life as god - the emotion IS you, and therefore is something that deserves your attention and energy, it deserves to be expressed. Emotions are things to be celebrated. You do recognize the transitory nature of emotion, and in that way you are not overwhelmed with despair when they are negative, but the difference is that you RIDE the emotions, allowing yourself to fully experience the ups and downs, rather than remaining in the middle, as is taught in the 'middle way' of Buddhism.
Related to this is love, an aspect of Buddhism I never wholly agreed with. Buddhist thought says you should love everyone equally, be attached to no one in particular, for that leads to suffering. In tantra, given that everyone and everything you feel is another manifestation of god - and therefore all is holy - to love fully and let yourself go in that feeling is one of the highest forms of living.
In tantra, you can achieve this blissful state on earth, in basic experience, through any practice. For instance, for the Hare Krishnas it's music. They sing and sway and dance as a collective and become part of something larger through this communal experience that is inherently physical, visceral. For the bodhisattva Hanuman, it was service. He descended from bliss into the world of experience to serve Rama and Sita, central characters in Hindu religion and philosophy. After he finished, Shiva - a powerful Hindu god - asked him to return to bliss. He refused, saying that he instead would remain in the world of experience in order to help others achieve the bliss he had achieved. That was his passion. For me, it might be love. It might be giving yourself so fully to an emotion that it redefines not only how you understand yourself, but your relation with those around you, and the very nature of existence. Kahlil Gibran said it best when he wrote of love,
"When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart."
Some myths/stories help illuminate the importance of fully investing yourself in experience, in emotion, rather than holding out for something else that "transcends experience." One is the story of the creation of Shakti from Shiva. Shiva is this really important Hindu god, and Shakti is his counterpart. The idea is that Shiva split himself into 2 parts just so that he could "see" himself again, meaning he wanted to appreciate the beauty of his being, his existence, anew. Sitting in a blissful state that transcends experience, he willingly chose to reenter the reality we currently experience, this physical, tangible world. The idea is that he created it, yet it is part of him. This reality, this form of existence, is known as Shakti. It is at once part of him, and yet separate. My mind goes to Christianity, where Jesus is at once thought to be a man of the physical world, yet also one with god, god himself. Ultimately, Shiva threw himself from bliss into experience, so that he could find himself again, and thus appreciate existence in a novel way. Shiva and Shakti are counterparts, separate, and yet the same. When these two are united or aligned, bliss meets with physical experience and we become whole. We at once recognize our divine nature, and how that divine nature is present in every aspect our lives.
For me, that story of Shiva/Shakti helps me reconcile the possibility of god with that of a universe we understand as chaotic, where both wonderful and terribly sad things occur. People often question how the most saddening, terrible, unbelievable events could come to pass, if there truly was a god. Here, one can replace "god" with any concept or sentiment reflecting connection or beauty in the world, of existence.
You have a perfect being that is aware of its blissful state, yet realizes this is just one facet of the wonder of experience. And this being has the power to "hit a button" and initiate something new, to create and throw itself into the chaos of experience, where it will experience ups and downs that do not occur in this blissful state. It will hurt, terribly so at some points. But it will also be incredibly joyful. And through this process, this being will come to understand and appreciate this bliss anew, rather than simply sitting in that state for eternity. It's the idea that, in order to appreciate the truly marvelous things in this world, they must be contrasted with the truly terrible. Or, in order to fully appreciate love, we must know what it is like to feel the pain of love lost. This is the rationale for creating what we perceive as an "imperfect" world, containing "imperfect" life. The truth is, nothing about any of it is imperfect. If you didn't understand the concept of dark, you wouldn't know light if you saw it. What we experience is indeed perfect. It is just the ongoing process of each of us trying to rediscover the perfection in ourselves, which is always there, if we're willing to look.
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