Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Bakhya Ibn Pakuda

“If he afflicts her, she suffers patiently, and her love for him only grows.”

I think we all need to learn to suffer patiently. The purpose of suffering is not to suffer but to open our eyes to that which we would otherwise be unable to see or comprehend. If every single day were bright and sunny and wonderful, life would become dull and meaningless. Physical and emotional suffering gives our lives meaning. It is because our hearts get broken that we appreciate love. It is because we die that we appreciate life. The emotions we experience during suffering are connected with the emotions we experience when our suffering has ended. Despair turns to hope. Hate turns to love. Sadness turns to joy. There is a purpose for everything and everything is necessary. Good could not exist without evil and evil could not exist without good. It is not the good I know that brings me joy and understanding, but the evil I have endured and survived that creates depth in my spirit.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Kuei-Shan

“Clarity means straightforwardness. That is why the Master has been compared to a clam: as soon as she opens her mouth, you can see her intestines.”

I think that honesty with oneself and other people is not only important, but essential; however, sometimes it’s hard to be a clam. I agree that eliminating delusion from your life is a necessity in order to attain any sort of personal growth, but always being completely honest and straightforward can be difficult when the possibility of pain or rejection may lay waiting for you. That doesn’t mean that we should fail to act or speak out of the fear of the unknown, but I suppose that’s why we’re not all Zen Masters. It takes a lot of strength to put all the bullshit aside, look in the mirror, and face yourself, but ultimately, being the real you and saying what you really think and telling people what you really feel feels a hell of a lot better than holding back and hiding in a state of make believe.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Johannes

“But if we start imagining God as behind the world, or beyond, or prior, or separate in any way, we have already stirred up mud in the clear water.”

I found this reading to be really interesting because it’s sort of the opposite approach I take when looking at God and his relation to me and the world. This reading stated over and over how God is all things and he’s not separate from anything or anyone. I feel separate from God and I don’t see that separateness as muddying up clear water or in any way negative. The way I think about God’s relationship with people is kind of like from the perspective as a parent. When a child is an infant, the parent has to be with that child 24/7 to do everything for them because they don’t know how to take care of themselves. As the child grows older, a parent does less and less because the child slowly becomes capable of independence. Finally, a child is no longer a child, but an adult and can take care of themselves. At this point, the parent isn’t doing everything for their son or daughter or telling them how to solve all their problems because they now have most of the tools to fix it themselves. Mom and dad call and check in, and may offer advice if it’s really needed, but ultimately they are on their own. I feel like that’s how God works. It’s not that he doesn’t care or couldn’t help you or even that he’s not watching, but like a parent, eventually trusts in your ability to make good decisions or to rectify a situation when you make poor ones. I don’t really see God in everything and I’ve never felt like God was working through me. When I accomplish something in my life or when I screw up, I don’t attribute either to God. I don’t feel like he takes such an active role in everything. It’s not that I think he isn’t present, but if he was going to do everything for us, why the hell would we even be here? I feel like he’s more on the sidelines like a coach or guide or a parent cheering you on and believing in your ability to think for yourself. I feel like he shows up when we truly need it. The only time I’ve ever really felt the presence of God is when I visited the Dachau concentration camp and stood in the crematorium in front of these two giant ovens and listened to a former prisoner tell me how he had put his father’s body into the oven we were staring at. I needed desperately to feel God and know that he was there in that moment and became filled with this profound sense of peace I can’t put into words. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say at this point and sort of feel like I’m off topic, but there it is…