"Times of great wisdom, deep compassion, and a real knowing of freedom alternate with periods of fear, confusion, neurosis, and struggle".
I don't about you, but for me the statement above is very true. I seem to have to go through that deep dark grinder of a place to evolve into light, and it has happened countless times in my life. I cannot preprogram the grind, it just comes my way, sometimes I sense it coming, sometimes it arrives unexpected. And when I am in that tornado, I just sit there, taking the battering and focusing all my energies on just surviving. Over the years, I have learned not to fight it, for it never works and leaves me more bruised if I do. I just wait for the storm to pass over, holding on to the least bit of patience and tolerance I have.
Some say that I am courageous. May be I am, especially when so many people say so, it must be true. But, I don't feel that way, ever. I feel that I am just a survivor. I have seen my share of pain, some of my close friends know it very well and have seen me go through those days. When I was a kid and the blows would come, I did not know what to do. I felt groundless, unprotected, and very scared. I used to stiffen up, tense up, make myself hard, hoping that the stiffness would be a shield and protect my soft inner core. It took me years to figure out that it was not the best idea. For the bruises are really bad when you stiffen up.
When I was nine years or so, we used to live in Hyderabad, and our neighbor used to subscribe to The Hindu, an English daily. Over the weekend, I used to borrow a week's worth of papers and read through them, it was my Sunday afternoon ritual. Several articles caught my fancy and one of them was seared into my memory. It was an article on self-hypnosis, or something like that. I remember the page so vividly, the green and orange outline, the picture of a man sleeping on the sofa. The article described how one can perform self hypnosis to be able to fall asleep, or just become calm. My little nine year old brain then wondered whether I can apply the technique to other aspects of my life, especially when I was afraid or anxious. I started to practice it in bed, at the dead of night, in my room, with the door closed. I was always scared that I may be doing something forbidden and if caught, I'll face severe consequences. And I am sure, I did not know the method at all, after all how much truth is ever in newspaper articles and how much can a nine year old comprehend? Anyway, I got better at just releasing the tension from my body, my own method, where I start from the feet and let go. Soon I didn't feel it. Then, I let go of the calf and the front of the leg, it vanished. Then, the knee, it vanished. And I kept moving on upward, till my whole body vanished. I did not feel anything.
After some practice, I tried this in school once, during a very boring class. Much to my surprise, it worked! Then, I started trying it when the blows came. I just let go, became soft and melted. It was not perfect at first, but as I got better, I realized that the blows did not hurt that much, the physical bruises were less pronounced. Not that the tornado did not come, not that the gale force winds did not throw me to the floor, they did. But I was soft, so when I hit the ground, it did not hurt as much. I don't know, I believe that this technique worked for me, or may be it's just a fancy I weaved in my mind.
The physical aspect of life's blows mellowed as I grew up, but the tornadoes are still there, they have morphed into emotional and situational issues related to family, profession, and relationships. Somehow, as my friends point out, I seem to have an affinity for tornadoes, or they like me, for they seem to come into my life with higher frequency and amplitude than is commonplace. So I have been told. Well, whatever it is, this Melt-method of mine worked sometimes. Lately, I have replaced it with meditation, on- and off-the-cushion Vipassana, which seems to be a much better and potent technique than my invention. Meditation gives me the ability to weather the storms, both the highs and the lows. The simile I'd give is that every time I meditate, a pool inside me gets a bit deeper. So when it is very cold outside and the surface freezes, my core does not, I survive. Also, when it is hot outside and the top layer heats up, my core stays cool.
Yes, I have my share of fear, confusion, neurosis, and struggle. Some of them are very big ones that leave me totally exhausted and drained for months on end. Then, I just get up, and when I look out, after the storm has blown over, it feels new again. I start over. I notice the little seedlings pop up, I nurture them. I endeavor to clear the wreckage away and start building the shelter again. And I see a beauty in it. Really, I do. Every time I start new, there is a deeper understanding of the laws of nature. Over the years, through each episode I have been through, I have realized that whatever we create is cyclic, there is a rise and fall. There is nothing that can hold anything constant and unchanging forever, even if we wish it to be so. I do not wish it anymore. I have realized that it is better to accept the transiency than resist it, akin to me becoming supple rather than stiff. But the building should not stop, the effort and the toil should keep going. Futility and pessimism should not set in, for that has no use. The other piece of understanding that is slowly seeping into me is the ability to perform without attachment. It seems like taking ownership for anything is futile, for it will eventually change and we can really not own anything, be it material or emotional, even ideas. I don't know, some say that this is wisdom. May be it is. I can only say that life is becoming soft everyday, the firmness I once knew is gradually disappearing. I am more open and willing everyday, to see perspectives, to understand the fallacies, to appreciate points of view, at the gross level but especially where it is coming from, that place of softness, often insecurity and ignorance.
I love walking on the beach, and in San Diego, it has been my Sunday morning ritual for years. I walk on Torrey Pines State Beach at daybreak. When I look at the waves crashing onto the shore, I see the changing nature of life. Some days it is low tide when I walk the beach, some days it is high tide. The cliffs and the ocean are always different, though I walk the same beach each week. The light is different, the wind is different, the marks on the sand are different, the seaweed piles are different, the flocks of birds are different. So as I walk the beach, I contemplate impermanence of life and nature.
Along with the understanding of impermanence, the other realization that is seeping in is that of nothingness. It may seem weird, and I cannot explain it very well. The sand on the shore appears solid, it holds my weight and of the thousands of people who walk on it everyday. But it is just made of grains, and these grains have spaces between them. It appears solid from where I stand, but it really isn't. These grains of silica, on a molecular level is also very empty. The molecules really don't touch each other physically, they are held by forces, but these molecules are mostly empty. On the atomic level, it is the same story, just a few electrons and neutrons/protons, everything else is just space, empty. These atomic particles are also sometimes solid, sometimes just mass of energy, with no solidity. It is amazing to contemplate this, that there is ultimately just space, just nothing. And here we are, holding everything as if it is solid, holding on to every little penny, every little emotion, every little idea, every pleasant/unpleasant sensation, thinking that this illusion is something tangible and solid that will last forever.
All these musings are great, they allow me to feel calm and quiet among all the storms in life, the happy and sad ones. I am by no means enlightened, I have not "figured it out" yet. I suffer with the same issues that I always did but the intensity of suffering has significantly reduced over the years. More often these days I am at awe of how things happen in the world, I feel that everything is just so very beautiful and perfect in its own chaotic way. Just last week I had a major operation, and I have an 8-inch (20 cm) incision in my tummy, yet as pain comes, I somehow revel in investigating it. There is pain, and then there are all these emotions around pain - of fear, of the need for justification, of the expectation for a cure. For me, pain is a beautiful object to observe and investigate. Where does it arise, how long does it stay, where does it move, does it throb or is it dull, when does it increase, when does it go away,... I can write long essays about it since I have been studying it for the last eight days, very intently, but you would not like to read that. So, it's better to hear Rumi speaking my thoughts more eloquently than I ever can:
I don't about you, but for me the statement above is very true. I seem to have to go through that deep dark grinder of a place to evolve into light, and it has happened countless times in my life. I cannot preprogram the grind, it just comes my way, sometimes I sense it coming, sometimes it arrives unexpected. And when I am in that tornado, I just sit there, taking the battering and focusing all my energies on just surviving. Over the years, I have learned not to fight it, for it never works and leaves me more bruised if I do. I just wait for the storm to pass over, holding on to the least bit of patience and tolerance I have.
Some say that I am courageous. May be I am, especially when so many people say so, it must be true. But, I don't feel that way, ever. I feel that I am just a survivor. I have seen my share of pain, some of my close friends know it very well and have seen me go through those days. When I was a kid and the blows would come, I did not know what to do. I felt groundless, unprotected, and very scared. I used to stiffen up, tense up, make myself hard, hoping that the stiffness would be a shield and protect my soft inner core. It took me years to figure out that it was not the best idea. For the bruises are really bad when you stiffen up.
When I was nine years or so, we used to live in Hyderabad, and our neighbor used to subscribe to The Hindu, an English daily. Over the weekend, I used to borrow a week's worth of papers and read through them, it was my Sunday afternoon ritual. Several articles caught my fancy and one of them was seared into my memory. It was an article on self-hypnosis, or something like that. I remember the page so vividly, the green and orange outline, the picture of a man sleeping on the sofa. The article described how one can perform self hypnosis to be able to fall asleep, or just become calm. My little nine year old brain then wondered whether I can apply the technique to other aspects of my life, especially when I was afraid or anxious. I started to practice it in bed, at the dead of night, in my room, with the door closed. I was always scared that I may be doing something forbidden and if caught, I'll face severe consequences. And I am sure, I did not know the method at all, after all how much truth is ever in newspaper articles and how much can a nine year old comprehend? Anyway, I got better at just releasing the tension from my body, my own method, where I start from the feet and let go. Soon I didn't feel it. Then, I let go of the calf and the front of the leg, it vanished. Then, the knee, it vanished. And I kept moving on upward, till my whole body vanished. I did not feel anything.
After some practice, I tried this in school once, during a very boring class. Much to my surprise, it worked! Then, I started trying it when the blows came. I just let go, became soft and melted. It was not perfect at first, but as I got better, I realized that the blows did not hurt that much, the physical bruises were less pronounced. Not that the tornado did not come, not that the gale force winds did not throw me to the floor, they did. But I was soft, so when I hit the ground, it did not hurt as much. I don't know, I believe that this technique worked for me, or may be it's just a fancy I weaved in my mind.
The physical aspect of life's blows mellowed as I grew up, but the tornadoes are still there, they have morphed into emotional and situational issues related to family, profession, and relationships. Somehow, as my friends point out, I seem to have an affinity for tornadoes, or they like me, for they seem to come into my life with higher frequency and amplitude than is commonplace. So I have been told. Well, whatever it is, this Melt-method of mine worked sometimes. Lately, I have replaced it with meditation, on- and off-the-cushion Vipassana, which seems to be a much better and potent technique than my invention. Meditation gives me the ability to weather the storms, both the highs and the lows. The simile I'd give is that every time I meditate, a pool inside me gets a bit deeper. So when it is very cold outside and the surface freezes, my core does not, I survive. Also, when it is hot outside and the top layer heats up, my core stays cool.
Yes, I have my share of fear, confusion, neurosis, and struggle. Some of them are very big ones that leave me totally exhausted and drained for months on end. Then, I just get up, and when I look out, after the storm has blown over, it feels new again. I start over. I notice the little seedlings pop up, I nurture them. I endeavor to clear the wreckage away and start building the shelter again. And I see a beauty in it. Really, I do. Every time I start new, there is a deeper understanding of the laws of nature. Over the years, through each episode I have been through, I have realized that whatever we create is cyclic, there is a rise and fall. There is nothing that can hold anything constant and unchanging forever, even if we wish it to be so. I do not wish it anymore. I have realized that it is better to accept the transiency than resist it, akin to me becoming supple rather than stiff. But the building should not stop, the effort and the toil should keep going. Futility and pessimism should not set in, for that has no use. The other piece of understanding that is slowly seeping into me is the ability to perform without attachment. It seems like taking ownership for anything is futile, for it will eventually change and we can really not own anything, be it material or emotional, even ideas. I don't know, some say that this is wisdom. May be it is. I can only say that life is becoming soft everyday, the firmness I once knew is gradually disappearing. I am more open and willing everyday, to see perspectives, to understand the fallacies, to appreciate points of view, at the gross level but especially where it is coming from, that place of softness, often insecurity and ignorance.
 |
| "You live in illusion and the appearance of things. There is a reality, but you do not know this. When you understand this, you will see that you are nothing. And being nothing, you are everything. That is all". ~ Kalu Rinpoche |
Along with the understanding of impermanence, the other realization that is seeping in is that of nothingness. It may seem weird, and I cannot explain it very well. The sand on the shore appears solid, it holds my weight and of the thousands of people who walk on it everyday. But it is just made of grains, and these grains have spaces between them. It appears solid from where I stand, but it really isn't. These grains of silica, on a molecular level is also very empty. The molecules really don't touch each other physically, they are held by forces, but these molecules are mostly empty. On the atomic level, it is the same story, just a few electrons and neutrons/protons, everything else is just space, empty. These atomic particles are also sometimes solid, sometimes just mass of energy, with no solidity. It is amazing to contemplate this, that there is ultimately just space, just nothing. And here we are, holding everything as if it is solid, holding on to every little penny, every little emotion, every little idea, every pleasant/unpleasant sensation, thinking that this illusion is something tangible and solid that will last forever.
All these musings are great, they allow me to feel calm and quiet among all the storms in life, the happy and sad ones. I am by no means enlightened, I have not "figured it out" yet. I suffer with the same issues that I always did but the intensity of suffering has significantly reduced over the years. More often these days I am at awe of how things happen in the world, I feel that everything is just so very beautiful and perfect in its own chaotic way. Just last week I had a major operation, and I have an 8-inch (20 cm) incision in my tummy, yet as pain comes, I somehow revel in investigating it. There is pain, and then there are all these emotions around pain - of fear, of the need for justification, of the expectation for a cure. For me, pain is a beautiful object to observe and investigate. Where does it arise, how long does it stay, where does it move, does it throb or is it dull, when does it increase, when does it go away,... I can write long essays about it since I have been studying it for the last eight days, very intently, but you would not like to read that. So, it's better to hear Rumi speaking my thoughts more eloquently than I ever can:
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture.
Still treat each guest honorably,
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
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