Ramblings Of a Madman

Solipsists Are Weirdos
Being back at work after 10 days is much like waking from a peaceful dream. Don't get me wrong, I was ready to come back, but things have a way of moving on without you when you aren't around to observe it. Seeing the change is both refreshing as well as frightening. It reminds me that other minds exist, and continue to further their aims despite my absence.

When I was a teenager, I flirted with solipsism for a time, and perhaps this flirtation is what eventually led me to Buddhism. Both being flavors of Idealism, the two philosophies both assert that only Mind itself is real. Solipsism goes one step further into the realm of nihilistic egoism and states that "only the mind I perceive is real, all other minds are a creation of mine", and "nothing exists but my mind". When solipsism occurred to me as a possible explanation for daily events, I had no name for it. In fact, I thought I had invented it (haha only serious). Such is the folly of youth! In retrospect it all seems so silly.

Yes, other's agendas go forward despite our knowledge of it through observation. It is both wonderful and unnerving simultaneously, and one more reason to get out of bed each morning. Finding small things to be wonderful is a great way to stave off depression. Screw Welbutrin, I've got drama and intrigue instead! I sometimes feel like I'm the straight-man in some strange sitcom that plays out as a hybrid of Dharma & Greg and Spin City. Someone call NBC, I think we have a new hit comedy in the making!

My job description can apparently be summed up in four words: the voice of reason. That has always been a large goal for me in life; I might as well make a living of it. I need to update my resume' with that. That should evoke an interesting response from some future employer.

Him: "It says here that you were the 'voice of reason' at this job. What exactly did that entail?"

Me: "Don't ask a question you don't want to hear the answer to."

Him: "I'm not sure I understand."

Me: "Would you like me to demonstrate?"

Him: "Please do!"

Me: "Comb-overs don't hide anything, and in fact, make a man look pathetic. Take yours, for example..."

Him: "Excuse me?"

Me: "Certainly."

On second thought, maybe I'll leave that off.

In all seriousness, I have been assaulted from all sides with reminders that life goes forward despite any hopes we have to the contrary. Many of them are happy, some of them are not so happy. It has been difficult to keep up, let alone blog about any of it. I honestly don't know what is too sacred to write about anymore. Once I figure that out, you will be hearing more from me.

Current Mood: anxious

A Few Paragraphs About a Few Things

At work, an email thread between coworkers sparked the following blurbs from my fingers. I thought I would share.

The world as we experience it is not how it is, it is just how we experience it. Our experience of it interferes with our ability to truly understand it. Subjective experience is not objective truth, and in fact, subjective experience serves little more than to separate us from objective truth.

Time and space are intertwined, and one cannot exist without the other. Time and space are relative functions of each other and can be inverted. Our experience of time and space is a false construct created by our limited senses and limited cognitive ability, and their true relationship, therefore, forever eludes our everyday experience.

Nothing can be considered true in the universal sense except universal laws. These laws are few, and we don't yet understand them. Nothing that can not be experimentally verified and quantified through objective observation techniques can be considered law. The verification must be universally applicable in order to be considered objective.

Anything based upon conjecture outside objectively quantifiable "facts", or based upon subjective experiences, is synonymous with illusion, and leads mankind towards modes of behaviour linked to superstitious times past wherein man was dominated by his environment. The result of this is suffering and disharmony among people.

All forces in the universe can, and must be, reducible to one force, as at the time of the universe's inception, only one force could have possibly been present due to the extreme conditions which existed. The unification of forces is the main goal of theoretical physics at this time.

Our ego is a construct that has no reality, but is an affect of various mechanisms which give the illusion that there is a separate self. The fact that our volition is unconscious is evidence of this, and this fact has been verified in laboratory experiments. Free will, as we know it, is largely a farce, and breaks down at the point which our volition ceases to be a "conscious" action. Since all volition can be shown to actually initially occur before we are aware of it, all volition..can therefore be logically deduced to be the result of complicated interactions between unconscious mechanisms and conscious stimuli.

Logic and reason are tools (models) upon which an objective viewpoint can be constructed algorithmically from a subjective viewpoint, and therefore are the common man's closest approximation of the truth. Truth beyond logic and reason ceases to be explorable within the confines of language, and must be internally experienced. Conditions for this to happen can be created, and the result of these conditions is ego-death, wherein logic and reason of a higher order are followed without deliberation. The unconscious seat of volition and the conscious experience of volition cease to be two separate things, and true freedom of expression and reason are experienced without hindrance.

As each of these is merely a paragraph, and each paragraph potentially controversial, full treatment of these subjects is not the intention of this blog post. Perhaps sometime in the future...

Current Mood: contemplative

Coda
For a moment the sun shone while the rain fell.
In that fleeting moment, opposite elements combined,
an amazing spectacle ensued.
The sun and the rain momentarily ceased their timeless battle
to join hands in friendship,
and the universe sang,
yielding hymns to their peace.

The world was at peace.
The elements were at peace.
My mind and heart were at peace.
I was at peace.

My mind is like the sun, my heart like the clouds.
Moment by moment
my heart casts shadows upon the ground of my Self,
while my mind seeks its limelight
where the clouds will allow.

The two dance together,
their dance a war declared so long ago
neither remembers what started their enmity.
Between the two, there never is peace.

Between the two, I am driven to bliss so profound
my being fills every corner of the cosmos with its joy.
Between the two, I am hammered into the ground,
instantaneously being ground into dust.

Between the two,
I am not,
for I am neither one
nor the other.

Without the clouds, my soil would be parched
by the continuous kiss of my mind.
No fertile ground could ever be found.
No grass would grow,
no fields would bear fruit.
My mind would scorch the life from me,
my being would wither
into the stillness of death.

Without the sun, my world would be naught
but a tumultuous sea.
There would be no place for weary travellers
to pitch up their tents,
no ground at all would ever be found.
I would be adrift,
alone,
infertile.
I would forever wander,
with no place within to call home.

For a moment the sun shone while the rain fell.
The moment was fleeting,
and as the rain receded into the horizon,
it left its kiss
upon the lips of the sun.
Everything was cleansed by this momentary peace,
everything gleamed with its own innate perfection.

The truce left its impression upon both,
and the sun realized that its enemy
was in fact its lover,
its counselor,
and its best friend.

When the moment was gone,
the dance continued.

Current Mood: contemplative

The Heart Sutra

Revisiting the past, you may recall a debate I had with a person who claimed to be a lama. In this debate, he claimed that I was asserting emptiness, and that this act meant I was a nihilist, not a Buddhist. I maintained his arguments to support this were based upon sectarian understandings, and to counter this, he quoted from The Heart Sutra to "prove" that I was wrong, and to demonstrate he was acquainted and agreed with many doctrines taught by the eastern schools of Buddhism. All of this was a reaction to my disagreement with him on how one must practice to become enlightened.

To paraphrase his contention, he stated that one must construct in one's mind a self-image and paradigm that was more "Buddha-like" in nature, and work to conform oneself to this construction so as to reach a greater plateau of enlightenment. My argument against this was simple; that anything likened to self hence constructed had no more in common with enlightenment than the construct one had to begin with. Enlightenment, as taught by the eastern schools of Buddhism, was an awakening apart from any logical construct, and neither depended upon them nor did it need them. I stipulated that enlightenment, in fact, destroyed them, as they had no reality as we know it within themselves to begin with, and neither did any concept of self which depended upon them. I called upon the teaching of Sunyata (emptiness) to demonstrate this, at which point he labelled me a nihilist. Then, like any good Buddhist sage, he resorted to name-calling, and even went as far as to attack the quality of my writing.

I reflected upon this today and realized that many people may not know the correct context of the verse he quoted, and that many may find it interesting. I will print it here, and then expound a bit upon some of the language, as some of the terms may be a bit foreign to many who read this. I know my audience isn't completely Buddhist. It is not my purpose to write a full commentary on the sutra, as this has been done many times and really doesn't need to be done again. I just want to bring this beautiful, short sutra to your attention in such a way that it is more accessible. I hope you enjoy it.

Heart Sutra

Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, when practicing deeply the Prajna Paramita,
perceived that all five skandhas in their own being are empty and was saved
from all suffering.

O Shariputra, form does not differ from emptiness; emptiness does not
differ from form. That which is form is emptiness; that which is emptiness
form. The same is true of feelings, perceptions, formations, consciousness.

O Shariputra, all dharmas are marked with emptiness. they do not appear nor
disappear, are not tainted nor pure, do not increase nor decrease.
Therefore in emptiness: no form, no feelings, no perceptions, no
formations, no consciousness; no eyes, no ears, no nose, no tongue, no
body, no mind; no color, no sound, no smell, no taste, no touch, no object
of mind; no realm of eyes...until no realm of mind-consciousness; no
ignorance and also no extinction of it...until no old-age and death and
also no extinction of it; no suffering, no origination, no stopping, no
path, no cognition, also no attainment with nothing to attain.

A bodhisattva depends on Prajna Paramita and the mind is no hindrance.
Without any hindrance no fears exist. Far apart from every perverted view
one dwells in nirvana. In the three worlds all buddhas depend on Prajna
Paramita and attain unsurpassed complete perfect enlightenment. Therefore,
know the Prajna Paramita is the great transcendent mantra, is the great
bright mantra, is the utmost mantra, is the supreme mantra which is able to
relieve all suffering and is true not false; so proclaim the Prajna
Paramita mantra, proclaim the mantra that says:

Gate Gate Paragate Parasamgate Bodhi Svaha

All buddhas ten directions three times
All beings bodhisattvas mahasattvas
Wisdom beyond wisdom Maha Prajna Paramita

Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva is known by many different names, most notably Kuan Yin, and is known in the east as the boddhisatva of compassion. He is depicted as either male or female, and sometimes is depicted as having a thousand arms, with an eye in each palm. The implication is that Kuan Yin has great power to help all sentient beings, and clearly sees anything and is very mindful of everything that his hands do.

Here he is seen practicing Prajna Paramita. What is Prajna Paramita? It is often translated "perfected wisdom", but in reality it means much more than this. Prajna Paramita is perfect wisdom attained through meditation and contemplation of the Dharma (loosely translated "truth", usually synonymous with the full body of Buddhist teaching, also synonymous with everything which exists or does not exist). While practicing, he perceived that the five skandhas in and of themselves were by nature empty. Skandha, literally translated, means "pile" or "bundle", but in Buddhist terminology, the five skandhas are the five separate parts of us that we falsely perceive as an individual self. In many English texts, they are referred to as the five aggregates. The five aggregates are form (matter), sensation, perception, volition, and consciousness. According to the text, these aggregates are inherently "empty".

A bit of clarification about the Buddhist concept of emptiness, as it is not emptiness in the normal way the western mind perceives it. It is not the lack of existence, but more the lack of independent origination. Everything that is has come from nothing, and back to this nothing it shall return. Emptiness is the profound underpinning of the doctrine of impermanence, and is the fulcrum of eastern Buddhist thought. With recognition and true understanding of this emptiness comes a profound acceptance that all is perfect the way it is.

This brings us to the Prajna Paramita mantra (which was quoted by my lama friend to support his specious arguments), as the text in between is written in clear English.

Gate Gate Paragate Parasamgate Bodhi Svaha

Gate is pronounced ga-tay, and literally means "gone". Paragate means to have gone beyond. Parasamgate means that all have gone beyond. Bodhi literally means enlightenment. Svaha is the equivalent of the Judeo-Christian hallelujah, a pronouncement of profound excitement. So we have: Gone, gone, gone beyond, all gone beyond, enlightenment, svaha! It is stated in the text that this mantra is the supreme mantra, and this implies that it contains the heart of all of the Buddha's teaching. I wholeheartedly agree!

I hope that all who read this finds joy in it. The Heart sutra is a very profound and beautiful piece which many believe summate the whole of Buddhist practice within its few words. If it arouses any questions, feel free to contact me. I will do my best to answer them, as far as I am qualified to do so.

Current Mood: chipper

Limbo Has No Smoking Section
Learning something that you already know, how much fun is that? I am finding it difficult to differentiate it from sleeping.

I am now being paid to sit and pretend to absorb something for 40 hours (that actually took me only 2 hours to assimilate) so that my name can be placed on a list of those who are "qualified" to do something. This certainly is not my idea of a good time. I simply can't imagine actually paying for the privilege, which is one of the many reasons I never went to college. Poor college students! I am now living your nightmare, but at least I am being paid to do it.

Suckers!

Here I sit, trying valiantly to remain awake even after downing 5 cups of coffee. I'd much rather be doing something else (or perhaps someone else). I'd take washing my hair for 40 hours over this...

On the bright side (not to complain too loudly) I guess it's all right in the end that I am being paid to do something very akin to sleeping. I just can't actually sleep, as I'd be fired if they caught me snoring. If only the atmosphere were a little more leisurely, maybe a chess set in the corner and some interesting music. This classroom needs a smoking section, damn it!

If anyone needs me, I'll be in limbo. I'm thanking the deity of my choice that they didn't make me check in my cell phone at the door. Wait... doesn't my phone have blackjack on it or something?

I don't think I would have made it through college. My bullshit tolerance is way too low, and this experience is a not so subtle a reminder of it. I may be living in the wrong country...or the wrong century.

Interestingly, after a coworker read this blog he pointed me here, wherein I found this interesting snippet:

The possible states of consciousness are asleep and awake.

The most common state is M0 extended standby mode, in which the person is almost as unconscious as in normal sleep, but does not know it. The state contains its own dream reality. People who do awaken can recognise that they have been asleep. Most people enter this state by age six, become "childish" and stay that way at least until retirement. Unlike the meeting rooms of large corporations, most children under the age of six are not childish - they are simultaneously more serious and more fun than most adults. Providing they do not replace work rituals with Derby and Joan rituals on retirement and are physically robust enough to survive dopamine withdrawal stress, people's dopamine levels can drop so low that they are able to exploit feedback in cognition and normal psychological development continues where it was suspended at age four. This is sometimes referred to as the "second childhood". In M0 extended standby mode a person cannot hope to comprehend the other states, but most usually retain some emotional memories of a far happier and more alive state that they experienced as small children. This is normal wakefulness, and is their birthright through every day of their lives.

Current Mood: bored

WYSIWYG
I feel too alive, if that is possible. I don't really know for sure, as these are such alien feelings for me. I am not used to the exhilaration of having too many possibilities in front of me. Someone call an ambulance, I think I may have a coronary.

I just read here that John Thompson (Symantec CEO, or Norton Antivirus for all of you non-techy people) announced to the world that the virus and worm problem has now been solved. Although I applaud his optimism, I have no idea what in the hell this man is thinking. As soon as some weakness is discovered and exploited to create some new network worm that cripples millions of computers and costs billions of dollars, this man is going to be eating a heaping portion of crow... and I am sure that it will taste a lot like his own foot. I wonder if he is experiencing the same feelings I am, and if that was what compelled him to make such a short-sighted inane comment to the world. The emperor certainly has no clothes.

On a side note, I think I am in danger of becoming smitten. This isn't the cause of my euphoria, to be sure, but maybe a side effect? I hope I become smitten, but I certainly won't go where I am uninvited. Either way, she appears to be very intelligent, is strikingly beautiful, and is certainly a wonderful conversationalist. Either way, I am determined to enjoy her company as much as she will allow. I just can't stop touching the stove, no matter how many times it burns my fingers...

I am in a training class at work at the moment, and the most useful thing I've learned is a new word: wysiwyg (an acronym meaning what-you-see-is-what-you-get). My favorite comic book hero used the battle cry "spoon!", but I may have to incorporate this new word into my everyday vocabulary as a reminder to myself to be transparent. So often I find others misjudging my motives simply because I don't make it easy for them to figure them out. Certain social nuances completely escape me, and non-verbal communication is certainly one of them. Wysiwyg, John, wysiwyg.

Current Mood: giddy

Life IS Too Short to Read the News

It's official, I am feeling perplexed, perturbed, and aghast. The timing is perfect, as simultaneously I feel pleased, relieved, and content. Never in my life have my body and mind held such antonymous emotions simultaneously. I have pondered so many mysteries in such a short time: why people still consider hamburger-helper to be food, how someone can steal from another and then think it wrong for that person to attempt to steal it back, why people steal to begin with, why our population still insists upon taking on pet causes while the entire time they are working towards undermining their own liberty, why some people think they have an inalienable right not to be annoyed, why love appears to be a sham and yet everyone seems to be buying into it, why I am buying into it, why we as a nation still pretend we invaded Iraq to advance the cause of human rights, why we haven't invaded North Korea when we pretend to invade countries only to advance the cause of human rights, why something this long can be considered one sentence, and so on... ad infinitum. This is why I haven't written lately. Life has been one swift turn after another, and I have barely had a moment to catch up with it. To be honest, I still haven't caught up, otherwise the fourth sentence of this post would have been MUCH shorter.

Since global news has sent me into a tail-spin, I won't mention it again. I will, instead, write about personal news, as everyone needs to hear something a bit on the lighter side after today, I am sure.

I have moved into a duplex with a roommate I barely know. Her name is Elizabeth, and many of you know her. She had promise as a roommate, I felt, and the first couple of weeks have shown me that my feelings were most undoubtedly correct. We have situated ourselves into a duplex, and judging from her chutzpah in putting the place together (as I gave her free reign over most of the common area), she will add that necessary woman's touch to my home-life without the overbearing influence of a live-in girlfriend. I think we will be fine roommates for the duration of our arrangement. Be on the lookout for a housewarming party invitation.

My domestic life pertaining to my son is at an impasse, and as I know his mother has been known to read this, I won't go into any details. Suffice it to say that it is a constant source of frustration and anguish for me, and I have been keeping myself busy while biding my time. These things can be expensive.

My vocation is keeping me busy enough, and I have managed to distinguish myself in the blogosphere as a customer advocate for those who have had public disputes with a specific corporation (the one I work for, of course). Since there is somewhat of a gag-order on my personal public reports about this, I am constrained from going into more detail. I can say that I am now being paid to put a human face on a large company, and the experience is uplifting and almost... freeing. My co-workers admire what I do, and I have been given several advancement opportunities. I am being treated very well.

I fulfilled a wish I have had for several years and managed to procure a hookah. It goes very well in my bedroom. I have already invited a few to partake, and one in particular is very lovely, indeed. Shisha goes very well with good wine and a thoughtful movie, even more so with beautiful and intelligent company...

I know this isn't my normal content, but given the fact that our world's events have been , for lack of better terminology, very heavy, I thought it best to forego normal programming to present a family feature... thank you Devah for the free hugs, I cried too!

Much love to you all.

Current Mood: anxious

Personal Freedoms? Don't Remember Having Those...
I love it when people leave comments. I learn so much from you, my dear friends. I am lucky to have surrounded myself with wonderful, intelligent, and insightful people. Once again, I was writing a response, and it became too long of a monologue to be contained comfortably within a comment.

I must admit that I am wrong about it being intended as a "rich boy's club" when it comes to our "rights". That much I have learned. My attitude has changed little, however, as I still contend that it was intended to be a "rich boy's club" when you speak about real decision making power. Women, Indians, and freemen with no property were NOT allowed to vote, as property ownership was essential to be given that "right". While virtually everyone drafting the constitution believed that men were granted certain rights by God, what defined a man with these rights, and what these rights actually were was a matter of great debate. Blacks were counted as 3/5 a person when tallying population, and didn't even get 3/5 of a vote. Only a select group were guaranteed the ability to take an active part in the governance of their community affairs.

Alexander Hamilton went as far as to argue that we should have a hereditary monarchy and a senate that inherited their positions and kept them for life as well. Fortunately, his ideas were shot down, but he did have the distinction of single-handedly creating the first modern political party, which in turn spurned Jefferson on to create the Republican party in response. His ideas ended up greatly influencing the entire ball of wax in the end, and we decided to put him on our 10-note in homage... and the result of his ideas can be seen in our "two-party system" that serves to further distance the leaders of our country from their constituencies.

The point I am trying to make is this: without the ability to influence public policy, a man's freedoms are naught but lip service when those policies have the power to take those freedoms away. At this point, we are no better off than the average man in 1787, save for the fact that we have really cool toys and enough to eat so that 50% of our population is seriously overweight. In fact, in most ways we are worse.

Habeas Corpus is out the window, as is illegal search and seizure. I can be fined or even JAILED in many places for simply saying a word that some soccer mom ignorantly thinks is infringing upon her "right not to hear foul language" (never knew we had that right). To hell with my freedom to say whatever the FUCK I want to. I likewise am unable to smoke in a BAR in my city even though the owner of the bar, who should have every right to allow the use of "legal" products in his establishment, wants smoking to be allowed in his bar. This is even more laughable given that alcohol is the largest killer of people between the ages of 18-35, but people can DRINK in a bar for some reason.

The war on drugs is prohibition in yet another guise, another way for the federal government to legislate what I can and can not do with my body. Prostitutes can be placed in jail almost everywhere for selling something it is legal to give away for free. The list can be written almost endlessly, as the war on our "personal freedoms" has touched almost every part of American life.

Hell...at least we get to vote for a baboon every four years...

To My Good Friend

My friend Avi wrote a wonderful blog about the state of our freedom. I was writing this response as a comment to his blog, but decided it was getting too long. Avi, I wrote it here instead.

While I agree that what is happening around us today is frightening, I do not agree that we are, or ever were for that matter, " the good guys. " The basic freedoms that you refer to in your diatribe against status quo were never meant for all of us. They were only originally meant for male white landowners. The rest of us have no rights within the confines of the spirit of the original drafting of our government, nor should we when you take into account the way our government was originally meant to be run. There were even safeguards built into the Constitution (read: electoral college, Sec 1 Article 2 of the US Constitution) to ensure that those in power could rely on wealthy educated peers instead of the general populace to remain in power in the event the disenfranchised ever gained the power of the ballot

I am a realist. I have no qualms admitting that "basic freedoms" were never meant for me and my ilk. I have no reservations about making the proclamation that by casting a ballot you are tacitly agreeing with the system as it stands while pacifying your own conscience in to believing you are doing your part to change things. Locally, there is a good argument for voting. Nationally, it is a joke. When the election takes place in two years for our new commandant, my ballot will be absent, as this is the only vote I can make in good faith. If I have a voice, it is not through a ..2 pencil and an antiquated computer-read card, it is through my own ingenuity and heartfelt written word.

The average American knows how fucked he is. How can he not? His ass is so chaffed he can barely walk...

We did not do this to ourselves, Avi. I firmly believe it was part of the design from the beginning, a design that enables those of privilege to stay there, and places stumbling blocks before those outside of the plush confines of luxury's house from ever entering the foyer.

Current Mood: blank

Beautiful People
So here I am, in the land of the pretty people, drinking a beer and enjoying the scenery. How someone that looks like me can somehow be anonymous I have never understood. The people who work here know me, and even greeted me by name when I walked on the patio. Hell, my friend Amber is even buying a pitcher to share with me when she gets off work in twenty minutes.

The patrons, however, are a completely different story. I've been checking out the girl across from me now for a good fifteen minutes, but she's been completely oblivious. The way she folds her arms together belies an inner sense of self-consciousness. I can tell by her posture as she reads that she is trying her best to be invisible. Being invisible is a childhood fantasy of many a teenage boy. It does have its benefits, and it does of course have its obvious drawbacks. The drawbacks here are especially noteworthy. No one bothers to even look your direction. She doesn't want anyone to. From the way she holds herself, she's obviously afraid of what they'll see.

Cry to me, oh beautiful ones! Tell me of your anguish and woe so I may comfort you with some of my own!

Being beautiful must be torturous. Laughably, the most beautiful people I have met have been the most self-conscious. I've always found it strange that people can look upon their own strengths and see naught but their imperfections within these strengths. Equally enigmatic are those who look upon their weakness and curiously find strength that isn't there a la Jerry Springer episode.

Those who are intelligent fear they are stupid.
Those who are beautiful fear they are ugly.
Those who are strong fear they are weak.
Those who are charismatic fear they are dull.
Those who are thin fear they are fat.
Those who are swift fear they are slow.

What good are your strengths if you can't even see them as strengths? Some may call me arrogant, those who do don't see the truth. It is the acme of stupidity to believe you are something you are not, and just below this is to fear you may be something you obviously aren't either.

Don't make me laugh. Beneath my laughter I cry for you, and cry also for myself. Find out who you are. Be that. That's what is truly beautiful.

Go on. No one's watching.

Current Mood: drunk

Day of the Hurricane
Attention, youth of America: you will get older.

The older you get, the less of a big deal that day you were born becomes, until one day a strange reversal takes place, and suddenly it becomes an even bigger deal to most people than it ever was when they were younger. I am turning thirty-two this Friday, and it has been a long time since the day I was born held any real meaning to me other than a marker of the passage of time.

In reality this day is no more or less a marker of time's constant trickle into tomorrow than any other day, but for some reason millions of people everywhere seem to mark that day as the day when you suddenly become older. When I turned thirty I did feel somewhat anxious about the situation. I was so anxious, in fact, I thought it a wonderful idea to travel to The Big Easy to greet the end of the world, a.k.a. hurricane Ivan. Luckily it missed, and I was instead able to celebrate the end of my second decade with some low-grade debauchery. How ironic I found it that less than a year later Ivan's younger sister would make landfall in the very place I spent the last birthday of my third decade of life. It was as if the cosmos was telling me it was time to leave my twenties in the past, and I should build my thirties from a fresh foundation.

Since then I now have a new child, a new career, and a new passion for learning and self-improvement. Along with the new I have old memories, old friends, old values, and old depression. I have a new attitude about these older things, and a newer perspective.

In the future I will have new friends, new opportunities, new love, new passion, and new horizons. I would not trade any of my experiences for those of another. I am proud of who I have become. I am proud of who I will be in the future.

My old life has been leveled, and this is once again "the finger of god touching me on the forehead and blessing me despite my own wishes", as my friend Steve put it so long ago when I was going through divorce. The words he said then still apply. My circumstances are indeed auspicious, more so now than they ever were.

I guess I am wrong. I should commemorate this coming birthday with some mild debauchery, and raise my glass to life.

Life will tear us down to build us up. Life's only concern is the perpetuation of itself. May this force work through me now and in the future to meet its end.

If you don't see me on Friday, it will probably mean I am enjoying the fruits of life atop a little debauchery.

Cheers!

Current Mood: high

Something Good, Nothing, or Something Bad Disguised as Something Good
This weekend was very busy. I saw a friend at the coffee shop who asked me how I was feeling. I told him I felt listless. I told him I was waiting for twenty-four or maybe forty-eight hours. He asked me what I was waiting for. I told him I was either waiting for something good or nothing at all. He smiled and told me he was also waiting, though not quite as long. He was waiting for four hours. He was sure what he was waiting for was something good.

Then I thought about it a little more. I told him there was a third possibility. I was either waiting for something good, nothing at all, or something bad in the guise of something good. His smile broadened even more. He told me with his smile he completely understood what I was waiting for. He told me that he loved my description of that thing I was waiting for, and that it was very appropriate.

I have to wonder. Did he really know what I was waiting for? Hell, I didn't know myself. I knew who I was waiting for, and I even knew why. What I didn't know was who they would be when they returned.

I have known the person I was waiting for several years, and we have pulled each other out of the fires of despair many times. How we managed this was a feat I had never understood. We have lived two very different lives, and yet we have never had any trouble communicating. We both value honesty above almost all else, and as a result have never had any problems being frank with one another. It was this frank communication I have always valued, and also never quite understood. It is rare to find such a friend. I hope that I haven't overstepped my bounds. I hope I haven't presumed on our friendship.

Any time I have become physically involved with a friend it has gone one of two ways: we either began a fairly long-term romantic relationship (long term by my time-scale), or it has completely undermined the friendship or at least set it back significantly. In hindsight this is perhaps something I should have considered before treading that ground again, but the hope of connecting with someone who I felt was as valuable as this friend on an intimate level made that a difficult thing to consider. It simply just didn't enter my mind.

A few days ago she set out on a road trip. On the phone with her last night I heard what I thought was a warning sign that maybe what I had not considered was something I definitely should have. The warning was quickly recanted, but it was there. I haven't spoken to her since, but not for lack of trying. She has not returned my two text messages. I can only hope I didn't fuck up. I might lose a friend in the process. I seem to excel at losing friends lately, all by being myself. Oops.

So, here I am. I'm waiting for something good, nothing at all, or something bad disguised as something good. Any bets?

Current Mood: listless

A Trip to the Gas Station
One the way home today I stopped by the Shell station to fill up my gas tank. As usual, the gas station demanded payment beforehand, and I was compelled to hand over a one-hundred dollar bill to secure my place at the pump. The attendant thought this amusing, and as I walked out of the door of his shop, he quipped that he would see me in a few minutes, a wry smile across his lips. I managed to squeeze out twenty-nine dollars worth of petrol into my tank, but missed the mark slightly and raised the stakes by a penny.

I walked back in to greet the attendant with a penny from my pocket. Perhaps this maneuver confused him a bit. He counted out eighty dollars in change on the counter, and prepared to hand me the cash. I asked him to verify the amount I had pumped, and he informed me that I was correct in assuming that he owed me less than what he was prepared to hand to me, though he didn't appear to realize it. Twenty-nine dollars and one cent. He was still clueless.

Doing the math in my head, I told him that he was about to short-change himself the healthy sum of nine dollars. He didn't look convinced. I insisted, and he broke out the trusty ten-key to fumble the total from it. After two tries he finally hit the mark. He owed me exactly seventy-one dollars. He still didn't look convinced, almost as if he didn't trust me or the ten-key to give him the correct answer to this riddle. Then he came to his senses.

"Wow, you're really honest," he said, obviously reflecting upon the effort I had just demonstrated while trying to convince him that he owed me less money. "Honesty pays off. Let me give you a free car wash."

I insisted that it wasn't necessary, and he, in turn, insisted that it was. He told me I had a week to use it, so I should take it now and use it later. He just wasn't understanding that if I wasn't willing to profit from his earlier mistake directly, I wouldn't be likely to accept profit from saving him from his mistake. I told him I wouldn't take a car wash from him. Besides, I didn't want a car wash to begin with.

On my way out the door, he shouted after me, "Sure you don't want a soda or something?"

I don't drink soda, either.

The situation caused me to think. Why was it that this man was so surprised by an act of honesty from a stranger? Why is it that he felt that he owed me something simply because I didn't allow him to cheat himself? Was honesty really that rare of an occurrence in his life? I did appreciate the gestures he was making, but I found it sad that he felt so driven to see that he made a gesture I would accept.

Honesty is something I highly value in people and in myself. When I have been dishonest I have suffered for it, and when others have been dishonest with me it has caused no end of trouble. Honesty can't be that rare, can it? I have too many friends for that to be the case, and I feel as if I can trust them to tell me the truth. It just can't be as rare as the gas station attendant made it out to be. I hope it isn't, but I fear it might be. At least one person in Round Rock thinks so. I am sure other people do as well, and I am likewise sure they have reasons for their beliefs that make sense, given their experience.

We're in big trouble, aren't we?

Current Mood: listless

On Being an Outcast for Fun and Profit
This life we live is so full of surprises.

I mentioned in blogs past that I bear a mark in my flesh. I have physical scars from things past which always remind me where I have been, and how cruel and disgusting people can be. It is an ever-present reminder, teacher, and friend. It tells me what human beings are capable of when they treat you with complete disregard. It is not something I share with anyone.

Well, this is not exactly true. I don't have one mark; I have many. I don't hide it from everyone; I tell only those who either need to know or those I feel close and comfortable with, and then only when it comes up in conversation. I know I am not alone in this. I know this most certainly.

Tonight I had a conversation with a close friend about love and apathy. This friend professes to love me, and sometimes I believe them, so I revealed one of my major blemishes during the course of this conversation. Their reaction shook me to my foundations. With their reaction I was reminded of an old lesson. Even to those I was closest to, I was a social pariah, an untouchable. I was among a select group who were scoffed at, rejected, and laughed at. It reminded me of Eddie.

Eddie was my best friend in the third grade. We were both strange in our own way, and we knew it. We were both hated by the majority of our classmates for being different. We were both untouchable.

Understandably, we became close friends, as we both knew the same stigma. We had nowhere else to turn, and so we turned to each other. This wonderful arrangement lasted until a week before the end of school.

Eddie had become friends with one of the normal kids, but I didn't know it. I saw him one day in the school cafeteria, and I took my normal seat next to him. I immediately noticed that there were other boys there I had never seen. They didn't speak to me, but had no problem speaking to Eddie. I spoke to Eddie also, but he avoided talking back to me altogether. I was so young, I had no idea what was going on.

Eventually, lunch gave way to recess, and I went to play with my only friend. I ran up to him and immediately noticed the same crowd that was in the lunchroom. Once again, they seemed not to notice me at all. I spoke to Eddie, but he cut me off. "Get away from me," he shrieked. "You're a nerd. I don't like you. I never have! You disgust me!"

My eight-year old psyche was crushed, and I wonder if it was a blow I ever recovered from. I knew then I was a pariah, that I would never fit in with anyone. After all, my only friend for eight months in the third grade had just confessed to me that in reality, I had no friends the entire time. There was no one I could ever trust again.

Tonight, I was that pariah again. I was told my ilk was different, that we carried with us a stigma, though our stigma was not a real threat to anyone. I know that such words are born of ignorance, but to this day, they still bring forth memories of an eight-year old learning he was a misfit not worthy of love. It's a wonder that any of us can trust anyone.

Current Mood: crappy

Walking Through Electric Air
I cleaned my desk at work yesterday. The grime and spilled-coffee residue had been building long enough. It had been so long since anyone had seen the veneer of the desk that no one knew what color it was anymore. Once the desk was cleaned a few dollars changed hands among those who wagered. Now the desk smells of orange cleaning solution...not sure if it is a pleasing smell or not. I liked the old coffee-smell better, it reminded me of home. Now it is reminiscent of a mixture of orange juice and pine-sol. Coffee stains smell decidedly more organic. When did manufacturers all agree that the smell of chemicals designed to exterminate life smelled appealing?

I have been staying with friends over the past few weeks. They have been both gracious and kind, but this isn't the type of adventure I would have chosen for myself. Strangely, that' is exactly how it all happened.

My friend Myra (from work) is now sitting on Miami Beach sipping margaritas in the sun. That's my idea of an adventure. She promised me that she'd bring back some of that beach in a bottle. I told her to place a layer of white sand on the bottom of a bottle and top it off with seawater. If you can't go to the beach, have someone bring the beach to you. Hopefully she'll remember. Since margaritas are involved, brain cells will die, so there is little hope.

The past week has drifted aimlessly by. Things happened, both for good and for ill, but they were just things happening. The reactions have been swift, powerful, and brief. The thoughts and feelings arise, the body reacts, and the thoughts and feelings fall. It is easy to see how everything is like breathing.

Is it all supposed to be so numb?

Air massaging skin...
Tingling...

Suffering and the Death of a Soul
I have noticed a tendency that is being established over the past few months, and it has caused great distress. Upon deeper reflection I must note that this tendency is not good, not evil, but is very instructive. Everything I desire has been taken from me systematically, so that the lack of these things has triggered a multitude of sufferings within me. I can no longer ignore this suffering. It has become too real. I have been forced to allow it to exist, and within that, I have been forced to face it directly.

At first, I fought against this suffering tooth and nail, so that it almost consumed me whole. I remember long nights without sleep, my own body rebelling against me because my psyche was tearing at this suffering ceaselessly. The suffering won out in the end, and I fell into the depths of despair. There was no more will to fight, and a very real part of my mind experienced complete annihilation.

It was then that I was face to face with yet another desire, one for which I knew I could not have under any circumstances. This, at first, seemed to be some sort of cruel prank I had unwittingly played upon myself. I began my grappling anew, though the outcome was clear from the beginning. I continued this aggression as if I was following some sort of unconscious sub-routine placed within my self-concept algorithms by some unknown author. I was powerless against it, though my conscious mind all the while sounded the alarms and screamed for my sub conscious to stop. "Why must you desire that which is unattainable?" it cried. I knew the efforts were doomed, and the fact of this was obvious from the beginning, just as it is obvious to any rational being that it would be impossible for them to leap unaided across the Grand Canyon. It was simply too far of a chasm to cross, and I knew it. The end of this was yet another part of my mind that suffered death.

In tears is solace only when we have cried all of our tears. The well from which these tears gurgle forth appears to be never-ending, yet everything that arises must fall.

What has died is dead, yet underneath that death sprouts new life. The cycle of life continues, despite any effort we make to stop it. It is that life that we need, therefore we seek out the death, for that life which erupts from the death of our delusion and desire is more pure than any life we have ever known.

When we fear this kind of death, the life that we make unconsciously will bring forth the lessons we need to learn time and time again. This cycle will continue until we either face this death, or face our own. The more deaths we experience, the more life we uncover, and the further into our own past we descend. Our desires are rooted within us from the time we are born, and they are glued to us by our own unique experiences, both good and ill. When something hurts us as a child, we either fear and despise it, or paradoxically, we attach to it with need and desire. Our entire process of individuation is littered with experiences, and these experiences have shaped our strengths and weaknesses.

So often it is the case where in our past we chose not to experience the full effect of the consequences of our actions, or the consequences of the actions of others. We oftentimes are imbued with a false sense of justice, so that our resistance is heralded with the words "it's not fair". Our mind disassociates from the experiences of the moment, and the full effect of the moment is never fulfilled. These unfinished experiences then cling to us like lint, and in doing so color our future experiences and decisions so that patterns of behavior emerge. The unfinished experiences constantly vie for our attention, and drive us unconsciously to repeat them so we may once again have the opportunity to let the consequences be fully realized.

It doesn't have to be an unconscious process. If you allow yourself the time to contemplate and delve into these experiences, let the attachments, craving, and anguish surface, and then let them play themselves out while you watch, the death can be fulfilled, and in that death, the attachment caused by the unfulfilled experience can be released.

That which I have called myself is not my self. I have loved and hated both people and their actions, but in reality, it was what I have attached to these people and actions that has driven me to hatred. I will now focus my efforts upon the totality which is me. I wonder what will survive, and what will be born in the destruction's wake.

The cliff is there, I just have to jump.

Current Mood: anxious

Message to Someone
If you read this, and it does not apply to you, feel free to disregard it. If you read it and it does apply to you, know that I have hope that the conclusion to this stumbling block I have set before myself in you will soon be removed, and this will no longer apply.

I loved you. Truth be told, I love you still, and yet the sheer derision with which you have treated me has twisted that love into something else. It is my something else, and no other, but this something else resembles disdain more than love. Hatred is love in a sense, but the love of someone who has become attached to the thing loved, and thereby attached to the horror that the beloved has instilled in that love with their actions. Were I to no longer love you, I certainly would no longer hate you. I suppose it is my own expectations of your love that are to be blamed here. Do not expect a snake not to bite simply because you have cared for it. It is a snake's nature to bite. It is my fault, for I believed otherwise.

When others have loved you, and indeed when I loved you, that love was a shelter for you. You saw in that love something that could point a way out of your own nightmare, and give you a platform upon which to lick your wounds. That platform was given freely. Such is the nature of love. The only fault I can find here is that you weren't strong enough to nurse yourself back to health while there. You instead went the other direction, and in doing so made yourself more dependent upon the love of the one who claimed to love you.

Rather than a medicine allowing you to get better, you instead became dependent upon that which was designed to give you health. The result of this, as with all addictions, was that you no longer felt you had it within yourself to accomplish those things which you knew would make you better. The net result was the abuse of your beloved. That was not his purpose, to be depended upon for such things. These things can only be gained by sacrifice and tremendous effort, not through the gift of someone else. It was folly to believe that another could give you these things, no matter how much they loved you.

The more you depended upon another for that which you should have within yourself were you whole, the more you saw your own atrophied sense of well-being disappear. This caused panic within you, and you sought any way possible to shift your own focus away from the part of you that you were killing, and into anyone else upon which you could lay any blame. Never to you was it your fault that you were dying inside. The admission of this fact would somehow absolve those who had wronged you in the past, or so you thought. It is true that you were wronged, but instead of repairing that which was damaged it was always more comfortable to place that damage upon the image of the malevolent people who "made" you this way. You made yourself powerless like this. The reaction to this self-imposed impotence was your shifting of the blame, making anyone else responsible for your feelings of worthlessness. No compliment could you hear and accept without completely disengaging your complicated defense systems, for they paradoxically relied upon this worthlessness that you felt to operate.

Truly, I hate you for bringing your sickness into my life. I, in turn, have learned why I allowed this to go on for so long. Strangely enough, we are not so different, as our source of suffering is all but identical. We were both abused, and we both lost our childhood because the adults in our lives could not deal with their own demons. As I allow these parts of me to whither and die, and the life beneath them blooms, I will better be able to generate compassion for you. Surely, when I can muster this compassion for that which I hate, I will be able to have compassion for everyone. You are my greatest teacher, and I hate you.

Current Mood: blank

The Teacher Speaks: The Final Cut

I thought we were done. After tonight's last exchange, we are. I will no longer talk with this man, as he has now proven it to be pointless. I am, in the process, breaking a personal record for number of blog posts in a single day, a record that I am sure will stand for some time to come. He took some time between reading my last email and sending his. This is what it said:

Get that dictionary of yours that you earlier looked up "nihilism" and look up the word "assert", this time. The Buddha, and those who follow in his foot-steps, do not "assert" emptiness. "gate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi svaha", from the Heart Sutra", says it all. Regarding the issue of emptiness, I quote, "Form is empty, emptiness is form. Emptiness is not other than form, form is also not other than emptiness", from the same Sutra. So much for me being biased against "East-Asian" traditions. If you weren't such a hack, you would see how offensive your clumsy gloss of that which is beyond assertion, as demonstrated by your posts, really is. Zen-lore is full of smart-ass posers like you getting the shit kicked out of them for trying to pass off half-baked crap like your posts to those that know the true meaning of emptiness. Your "gloss" on emptiness may impress your hack friends, but I've seen it so many times before from people like you I can spot it with my eyes closed, just from the stink of ignorance. Someday, you will understand what I'm saying to you. You may be a hack, but you are sincere in your pursuit of wisdom, and I'm confident that sooner or later that the Buddhadharma will sink into that thick skull of yours and make an impression. Good luck to you.

At least he wished me luck, and admitted that I was sincere. Unfortunately, it was in between insults hurled not only at me, but at my friends also. His use of the Heart Sutra to attempt to illustrate his point was also rather sophistic. Needless to say, before wrote back to him, I had to walk outside to deal with the anger I felt about his inclusion of my friends in his tirade. Once I had dealt with the anger, I realized that he indeed felt very small, for if he did not, he would not lash out at me so. This gave me the correct perspective from which to reply to him.

Your quote from the Heart Sutra gladdens me. What is it inside you that is being offended by me? I have been nothing but kind to you, and you continually attempt to assert your own intellectual dominance. "Form is empty, emptiness is form." How much more of an assertion of emptiness do you need? Certainly it is only one line of the Sutra, but it is an assertion of emptiness, as well as an assertion of form. The Mumonkon and the Blue Cliff Records are replete with koans asserting both.

For example: A monk asked Tozan, "How can we escape the cold and heat?" Tozan replied, "Why not go where there is no cold and heat?" "Is there such a place?" the monk asked. Tozan commented, "When cold, be thoroughly cold; when hot, be hot through and through.

Words are indeed clumsy weapons. I have always stated that they are ill-equipped to deal with subjects such as this. If you recall, a few of my posts addressed this very subject. That still fails to answer my questions about you. Why are you so upset? Now you have taken your insults and applied them to my friends as well? Where does this stop? Would you like to apply your insults to my thick-headed mother for bearing and raising such an ill-bred hack? If you brought this tripe before Lin-Chi, and told him he needed to impose something of his own creation upon his true self to reach enlightenment, would he not beat you on your way out of the door of his monastery?

Truly, someone who you consider lesser than you has shown others that in some ways, you are lost in your own delusions of self-importance, and this infuriates you. I see more clearly than you would ever give me credit for, because to admit that I have any insight at all would be to admit that my assessment of your teaching is not without merit.

No one would think any lesser of you were you to apologize for your complete lack of grace and poise and to admit that maybe I had a valid point. This was never about you. I wish you could see that. But, as you admit, you have your eyes closed. What better way to spot a poser like me, and all of his hack friends. Very interesting way to assert emptiness, my friend.

I am trying to impress no one here. Do you think it gladdens me to do this? I have long ago stated that I will not touch your project with a pole, and yet the very thought that you are exposed in any way here infuriates you. Please, take this all to your teacher. If you have none, and are a teacher yourself instead, please reassess your own understanding of compassion, your own understanding of prajna, and your own understanding of yourself before you teach others to treat people as barbarically as you have, and continue to, treat me and now my friends as well.

I will hear no more from you now. If you send me a message on this thread again, I will delete it without reading it. I am weary of your personal attacks, and weary of your abuse of my friends. This is not the way you teach the Dharma.

As for my posting of this entire incident on my blog, don't worry about it. As I said, this was never about you.

Current Mood: mellow

The Bell Keeps Ringing

Sigh.

He keeps coming. For those of you following this saga I post the latest exchange. He is tenacious, I must admit, but now he is playing the part of revisionist historian. When one rewrites the events to suit ones aim it is truly a work of sadness and desperation. Observe:

To publish my personal messages to you in a blog without my permission is simply inappropriate. The fact that this simple matter of etiquette is beyond your comprehension only validates my opinion of you. The purpose of the RL isn't for you to publish your poorly thought out dharma-musings on emptiness. Stick to your blog. Better yet, study the dharma. To attempt to post what you posted on a group edited by a Tibetan Buddhist is pure folly on your part. To assert emptiness is text-book nihilism in Buddhist philosophy. Obviously, you aren't aware of this fact, which tells me that you have no understanding of fundamental Buddhist concepts. Your posts have no place on the RL unfortunately. Nothing personal. You violate my privacy, insult me, refuse to respect the guidelines I have established for my group, and expect me to think of you as being something other than a self-taught hack? I deal with people like you every day. I'm up to my ass in people that think they know something about the Dharma and throw a fit when I moderate or edit their comments. Give me a break.

He asks me to respect him and his rules. He says that he has people throwing fits when he edits or deletes his comments, in fact, 'up to his ass.' In a previous message he told me that I was the only one. I guess he's up 'up to his ass' with me? Who knows. He really likes the word 'hack' though.

I tire of dragging him kicking and screaming to look at his true face. If he isn't going to look, he won't look. But again, I try:

To assert emptiness is text book nihilism in Buddhist philosophy? Sunyata is one of the most subtle and profound teachings of the Buddha, and you think that by asserting this I am being a nihilist? Why post keywords zen and zen buddhist if you can not stand to hear this doctrine?

Once again, I will say this, and then I will say it no more. Nowhere in any of my posts did I deny existence. What I denied is that your doctrine of the creation of an alternative amalgam of self to replace what had developed in you over your life as self had anything to do with the Dharma. It simply doesn't. You keep telling me to study the Dharma so that I can see this truth, but the Dharma is more than words and terminology, my friend. I am sure your guru didn't force feed these concepts to you, as if he did, he is not fit to be called a guru in my opinion.

In Zen it is taught that we are all born into this world with Buddha-nature, and that this is naturally empty, open, clear, vast, and limitless. It is our misconceptions and attachments that mask this nature from our sight, but that through practice we can directly experience this, and that this practice, like the practice the Buddha undertook for six full years before breaking through to enlightenment, is Dhyana. The Japanese masters call it Zazen. The result of this practice is called Kensho or Satori when this nature is seen, which is synonymous with Moksha, liberation from all bonds. The distinction between experiencer and experienced, actor and action, and subject and object is erased, and Union is experienced.

There are many types of Dhyana in Zen, I prefer shikan-taza and kinhin, whereas others prefer koans and counting breaths. The aim of all Zen techniques is the same: the peering into your True nature and breaking through to Satori.

As for my insulting you, the record is clear. You insulted me, not the other way around. When you did, I treated you as if you were my child, as I know that no realized Buddhist would do such a thing, and was kind to you. Posting your words on my blog is clearly my perogative. Being a blog analyst for a large corporation, I can attest that the phenomenon has much precedent in the blogosphere. I have committed no wrong here.

I let you speak for yourself. Were you truly representing the Dharma when you denigrated a lay-buddhist for pointing out your inconsistencies? Was it rather your pride in your own modicum of 'understanding' that motivated you? Were you to post my words on your own blog, have I said anything I would be ashamed of, and would it bother me?

The more you speak to me, the more you convict yourself. Please, continue if you will. It makes for very enlightening reading, and perhaps some jewel of wisdom will be realized from it.

I visited the starting thread recently. I saw a post by someone who is a Buddhist in the Dharma Bum sense of the word posted on it. I invited him as a friend. We might not see eye to eye on 'Buddhist doctrine', but I am sure I will enjoy his company and correspondence. Who knows what jewel of wisdom he has discovered.

The Moderator Has His Eyes Openned

Hopefully this is the last chapter in this saga. I have apparently embarrassed our friend. I received this a little while ago:

To post a private communication between us on your blog as an attempt to embarrass me only illustrates the kind of person you are. Who would do such a thing? No well adjusted normal person would. I simply edited your comments from a thread. Your comments were hostile and combative. The fact that I deleted them can't have come as a surprise to you, since I clearly stated to all members that I was no longer going to attempt to moderate the group, but that I would edit the threads after the fact by deleting posts instead. To date, you are the only contributor to complain about having a post deleted. Again, you are a self-taught hack who can't accept the fact that your posts were deleted. You are very confused about the Buddhadharma and I hope that you someday have a chance to study the Dharma with a real teacher. My fear is that you will continue in your deluded ways and furthermore confuse others who don't know any better, which is why I'm so glad to be rid of you as a contributor. I wish you well, though, although you don't wish the same for me. Hopefully, someday you will realize that I tried to do my best by you, and that it wasn't personal. I wish things had worked out better.

Suddenly, he is acting differently. It is strange how when a Demagogue realizes there's an audience, they suddenly put on their mask. Now he wants to help me. This coming from the man that said "You don't know shit. Deal with it." and my favorite, "You are a self-taught hack. Accept it and move on." I still don't know what this best for me is that he tried to do. I have read the email thread a hundred times looking for it, but all I see is me trying to reach out to a closed-minded fool and being denigrated for it. I feel sorry for this man's followers, which I know are many. Hopefully they will read my blog and tell him to go sit under a tree for a few years so his understanding can mature.

I don't know why I am so kind to these people. Continually they err, and continually I reach out to gently correct. I hope he finds the peace he is looking for.

My reply, hopefully the last:

I don't wish you well? I have wished you nothing but the best, otherwise I wouldn't be talking with you now.

My comments were not combative. They may have been abrupt, but I don't like to mince words. I apologize if you took them this way. It was certainly not the intent, as I was merely attempting to correct what I saw was an error. They were never designed to be an attack against you personally.

Still, you look down upon me as a "self-taught hack", when I have continually pointed out to you the simple fact that this is indeed what the Buddha was, as was Bodhidharma. The fact that I have never been a monk should have no bearing on whether or not it is possible for me to reach realization in any form. I, of course, have learned that this, in your mind, is impossible. So be it.

Why would my posting of this dialogue embarrass you? If you have said anything that is embarrassing, you have done so to yourself. I posted this thread as an attempt to instruct my friends and colleagues about the dangers of egotism. Many people claim to know truth, and then become attached to their claims, so that they can't accept the truth were it to come from anyone other than their 'superiors'. You made a snap decision about one thing that I said, not even bothering to put it into context, and immediately labelled me as a nihilist and saw nothing other than this in my comments. How foolish!

Were a bum off the street to come up to me and speak the truth, I would know it, and I would accept it. All you care about is who that person is who is speaking to you, and how well that truth meshes with your own understanding. Your understanding you take stock in because it has been told you by a guru, not because you have necessarily taken it and applied it. I have read nothing in your replies that indicate anything but disdain for me. I simply asked a question as to why the dialogue had been removed, and also expressed my disappointment in your closed-mindedness, and you flew into ad homonym attacks against me as a person.

The truth, even if it come from a jackass, is still the truth.
Good advice, even if it comes from an asshole, is still good advice.
Delusion, even if it comes from a Patriarch, is still delusion.

I will keep telling people what I tell them. You can see what I tell them by reading my blogs. I have nothing to hide. Why do you?

In the future, you should not treat people any differently in private than you do in public. It can lead to inconsistencies in thought, and a duplicitous public image. Never do in private what you would be ashamed to admit publicly.

Hopefully he will understand this message. Were he truly a man of enlightenment this discourse would have still been published, albeit for very different reasons. He thinks this is a personal attack upon him. If he feels like he has been hung, he has only himself to thank. I didn't even give him the rope.

Current Mood: content

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