Simplicity Within Stillness

Today is Friday, a time when the workaday world feels the gravitational pull of the weekend. A shaft of light filters through a crack in the darkened cocoon of responsibility, and the indwelling spirit senses freedom.

For some, Friday night is date night, a time when the psyche sheds it's clock-watching persona and flies into an expansive sky of hope. Hope of what? Depending on the person, those enticements vary wildly: beer, sex, weed, movies, shabbat dinner, clubbing, meditation marathon, a night at home with kids or pets or mate or oneself welded to TV, or simply alone. Silent.

For those who are servers, cooks, truckers, babysitters, caregivers, entertainers and so on and so forth, Friday night is just another day in the life, with nothing out-of-the-ordinary. However, as most of us live amongst the ranks of daylight worker bees, !!weekend!!! remains the germaine topic.

Having lived in Southern California for 43 years, my network of friends and acquaintances has mushroomed into a diverse chain of beings who nestle in every sector of greater Los Angeles. Given this diversity, my choice of potential amusements runs the gamut from gardens of worldly delights to out-of-body forays into subtle realms of existence.

As I contemplate the impending weekend on this Friday morning, the wide-open blank pages of my ICalendar trigger a bi-polar response. Ah! Nowhere to go, no one to see: a peaceful, still and uncluttered span of time when anything becomes possible and ethereal dreams remain untested by real time rubes.

Then the pendulum swings to the opposite extreme and low-level panic sets in. What if I am missing a phantasmagoric movie or party or dinner or dharma talk or theater or a be-here-now-in, or any other life expanding event of which I have yet to know about? If I don't pick up the phone, text, or email someone with a plan of action might I fall into a big black pit reserved for lost souls?

In the center of this bi-polar swing lies an answer that quells the wild mind of either/or. Simply allowing for each second to unfold, without pre-conceived notions of "weekend!!!" bubbling in my brain, a simplicity arises like cream floating to the top of unhomogenized milk. No need to do anything or be anything; by simply breathing and noticing what my senses are taking in, a simplicity arises out of stillness that is a balm to the mind. Ah yes! Breathe in breathe out. And then,"doing" is done.

Finality

All things have a beginning and an end, which is why mans' classic search for immortality seems like a fruitless, irrational pursuit. Perhaps it is the very inevitability of change, of birth and death, that causes human beings to resist this inconvenient truth when faced with the demands of survival on a daily basis.

What to do in this fleeting interlude we call life?

Some play hard, most work hard, and those holding the middle ground sleepwalk through the tedium of daily life maintenance. Granted, in the spinning 24 hour wheel of daybreak to daybreak, many choices can be made...to be happy? To be sad? To be angry? To be depressed? To be joyful?

Choice can be a difficult concept to grasp when one is flooded with emotion, especially negative ones. No one seems to mind being happy, and when in that enviable state, there is no need to choose. One simply is. Yet, given the inexorable march of change, that happiness will morph into something less desirable.

How those ups and downs are navigated will make the difference between a life well-lived and a life of suffering. If we choose to hold the big picture, while simultaneously attending to the niggly details of life on planet earth, a certain equanimity will overtake us. In that space of equanimity, choice becomes a viable mechanism to shift gears and enter a more productive and positive zone.

To be empowered is to realize that we can choose our perceptions, and that the ability to flip the switch is a gift inherent to us all.

Surrounded by Giants

Save for desert dwellers and inhabitants of the Arctic circle, most people on planet earth are surrounded by green and leafy giants - the trees. Environmentalists voice passionate support for their plant friends, but most of us take trees for granted, simply because because they are ubiquitous.

Do you know how many trees you pass on the way to the nearest store? Or how many populate the town or city in which you live?

These tall beings emanate an energy unique to each one, just as humans have distinct fingerprints and singular physical attributes. To tune into each tree-being and then multiply that being-ness by a few billion, it becomes clear...and overwhelming...that the protective force-field emitted by theses guardians of the earth is far more powerful than any nuclear weapon.

Without the trees' oxygen production we would suffocate. Without the respite provided by their shade, we would fry. Let us bow in reverence to the great plant-protectors that befriend us with a quiet and life-giving power.

The Unbearable Politeness of Being

Theoretically, it is impossible to become enlightened and simultaneously act in a self-serving manner. Like the surgeon who uses dissolving stitches, analyzing one's own mind in order to understand its modi operandus dissolves egotistical motives; the ultimate metaphysical manifestation of courtesy.

How does one set about doing this in the fast paced western world of materialism?

The Dalai Lama and other great masters instruct students to critically examine the teachings and the teacher before buying into them. While this lazy American practitioner makes no claims as to a true understanding of the dharma, nonetheless it seems important to carefully examine doctrines for their relevance. Personal understanding, grounded in experiential knowledge, is the only foundation upon which to build. 

Conversely - or perhaps paradoxically - trust, faith and dedication are vital ingredients in following a path to realization. When one is a beginner, a worthy teacher must be found.

As one ventures into the newness of every moment, it is essential strike a delicate balance between common sense and the commitment to a goal that may seem elusive and mysterious. This applies not only to the spiritual path but every other endeavor in this conundrum called "life." Nobody has the magical formula but as long as there is breath there is possibility.

Jackhammered

What could be better than sitting on a shady terrace during sunny, cool California weather with an easel, canvas and paints on hand - that is, if one is an amateur, a professional, or another sort of being with artistic impulses.

Imbibing this glorious moment, entranced by the vibration of cerulean blue flowing off the tip of my paintbrush, I become aware of an intrusive sound that penetrates the rapture.

It's a jackhammer. It's Saturday. It's a lily-white upscale suburban neighborhood filled with people for whom order and neatness is the most prized value. It's a town whose city planners manage a budget colored black - as in profitable.

I pretend that the machine's noise doesn't matter; an unimportant annoyance in the background. This rationalization lasts for about15 minutes, but as the rata-tat-tat lingers on, my awareness begins shifting. The Complainer-in-Chief starts her internal dialogue about people who have no business disturbing the peace on a weekend, let alone the ubiquitous weekday drone of machinery used to keep my town in its impeccable Pleasantville state of orderliness. Trees that drop leaves or seeds face the death penalty, and city money that could be used for art or music in the schools goes to repave roads that need no repair.

Thankfully, the Complainer-in-Chief is governed by a higher power, the Awareness Squad, who steps in when the former starts becoming too self-important. The person running the jackhammer suffers far more consequences to his hearing and body organs than the artist on her hilltop terrace who is annoyed by the distant sound. The well-oiled organization of this township is a blessing and a boon when one contemplates the enormous suffering of human beings worldwide who lack clean water, food, or protection from inhuman humans.

When we count our blessings rather than our complaints, life takes on a sweetness that has no limits. There is no end to love. There is no end to compassion. There is no end to gratitude. Everything else has an expiration date.

God's Will?

The horrors of abnormal weather systems, provoked by climate change, are vesting their wrath upon us. Interpretations abound as to the meaning of it all. For sure, Mother Nature is expressing immense displeasure at the treatment of her bounty. Human folly and short-sightedness are one cause, stoked by a capitalistic fervor born of the Industrial Era.
Or, if Darwin was right, human beings are overrunning their environment, thus precipitating a culling of the global flock through war, natural disaster, and human greed, among other less obvious causes.

Whatever the reason, certain people have an irrational perspective. This morning on CNN, a plus-size lady in a giant pickup truck was interviewed by a reporter. She lives on the Atlantic seaboard of Florida, which is in grave danger from an oncoming hurricane of never-before-seen proportions. Despite urgent pleas from the authorities to evacuate, she is staying put.

"Why?" queries the reporter.

"Because we always have stayed to ride out hurricanes," answers the over-consumer.

One small difference - this is a never-before-seen hurricane of historic proportions. Comparing it to its weaker siblings is not a valid point of reference. Yet the reporter doesn't seem to catch this illogical conclusion and continues:

"Aren't you afraid?"

Our GMO-brain-damaged citizen replies, "God will provide. He will keep us safe."

Here is where the hubris of this woman may be a fatal character flaw. How does she know what God wants? Did she have a visitation from one of his archangels to say that he personally is making an exception for her while deciding to wipe out dozens of others who, like her, will be in harm's way? And if those of her ilk are spared by God while he obliterates so many other good folk, then heaven forbid! The cretons will have inherited the earth.

So while the quintessential white woman of pick-up truck fame rests her trust in God doing her a personal favor, I would prefer a different prayer. May all human beings wake up from their slumber of indifference and make a change for the common good. Maybe then we won't need to pretend that we have God's unlisted phone number.

Background Noise or News?

To my housemates, the incessant background hum of CNN is a source of annoyance. Bi-weekly one of them will query, "Why do you keep on CNN all day? Isn't it a downer..." with an effect akin to the whine of a mosquito in the dead of night.

As a courtesy I turn off the telly or mute the sound when one of my co-inhabitants enters the room ... and in deference to all sentient beings within a 300 foot radiance, the volume is kept at miniscule decibels most of the time.

I myself couldn't understand this addiction to the near-ubiquitous CNN drone that began during primaries 18 months ago, but then came an epiphany. The study of human behaviour involves analysis of cause and effect. Big events have big impact, yet subtle and seemingly insignificant happenings inevitably trigger a landslide of outcomes. Thus, in order to predict future behaviours, an exhaustive study of past and present actions is imperative.

Right out of the gate, it seemed glaringly obvious that Donald Trump was a pathological liar and a card carrying narcissist with borderline personality disorder. Why people of sound mind chose to ignore the obvious is a mystery but provides a clue to my CNN habit.

Every day, even each hour, a new clue to 45's horrific modus operendus unfolds. To catch all the nuances, one must keep tuned in to track how events/words/tweets play a role in the collective wakeup.

Like a suspense novel, every new twist unfolds the plot. So now the question is, will this story have a happy ending or a tragic one? More accurately speaking, will the universe bend to the arc of truth in my lifetime? In my childrens? Or sometime in the ineffable future?