THE CHALLENGE OF RECONSTRUCTING "ONESELF"

Once upon a time he had vision, he could see. Or he believed he could see. He felt he could see ... something. He believed himself to be insightful. He believed himself to be articulate enough. He didn't question his ability to write, to "express himself"; as far as he was concerned, it "just came naturally." But he had gotten older; he now felt chronic, often acute, pain in his neck and back, causing migraine-like headaches. He now questioned everything about himself, and even what "himself" was or might be. He had rather deconstructed that which he once believed to be himself and had not reconstructed himself, his identity with himself, as himself, as yet. And he hadn't even considered this as important, much less necessary --- until now.

Now he had recognized the necessity and the problem of "reconstructing himself." He had inadvertently deconstructed himself, his particular identity, as a result of practicing Zen, which included the sitting meditation called zazen, a practice of "self-observation," of his own mind and way of thinking, for perhaps forty years. Through this practice, he had rather "vanished himself, which, in so many words, could be said at least to be a result of sustained zazen practice. Prior to that he had engaged in Theosophical or esoteric (I suppose) meditation, which was "transcendent" in nature, for a number of years. And still prior to that he had ingested a goodly amount of LSD for a number of years. Finally, still in his teens, he had practiced what might be called "occult" meditation as put forth by the Rosicrucians (AMORC) for a few years. All of this had the effect of "erasing self or ego," or at least enough that he had reached a point in which he found himself to be quite undefined or even deficient in its "self-sustainability." And so he was now looking to recreate or reestablish such a self-identity.

In his meditation practices, as previously stated, the result, if not goal, was to "see through" or otherwise "transcend" his current identity as "himself." Now and probably for the remainder of his life, he would have to engage in "remembering himself," as it were. And so he would begin.

NO ONE DIES FOR OUR SINS

This whole thing of "Jesus dying for our sins" is ludicrous. If we aren't willing or even able to die for our own sins, how are we even able to learn anything about life, ourself, evolving as human beings? No one dies for my sins. I DON'T WANT anyone to be responsible for me anyway, as if even there could be such a thing. Are humans so weak, stupid, and inherently unable to account for themselves that they cannot even possibly know themselves enough to be actually responsible human beings?

Do "children of God" ever grow up? Ever become accountable for themselves? Even become real human beings? Or are we destined to be "children" forever, destined to be "sheep" of the herd forever? Look at the world, look at living in the world, look at history itself. How can any one even believe such absurdities? Us humans are already dying for our OWN sins. What we sow, we reap, even tenfold, a hundredfold. 

Perhaps I simply do not understand "forgiveness for our sins" or "dying for the sins of humanity." Perhaps any person who is killed because he or she does not seek retribution or revenge or even self-protection does in fact die for the "sins," that is, the ignorance of those with no awareness of who they are or what they doing in bodies on the earth. In that same respect, I also understand what "forgiveness of sins" actually means. To "turn the other cheek," as Jesus is supposed to have spoken, is, then, "to die for the sins (the ignorance) of humanity," and is, in that same respect, to "forgive" the same. And I see that to be able and willing to "turn the other cheek," to "die for the sins of the other," and to thus "forgive" such ignorance, may in fact "redeem one's own soul," for, in forgiving the other, one forgives oneself for one's own sins. Jesus and "God" have nothing to do with this; they are mere characters in the particular story imposed upon believers. For, again as Jesus is supposed to have said, "The kingdom of God is within." So one may in fact turn the other cheek and allow the ignorant one to harm or murder, but this does not allow the sinner to be free of the results of what has been done. Those who sin are still responsible for what they do. "Forgiveness does not let them off the hook." They must still learn to become responsible human beings, however long it may take them. They must still suffer until they learn to be responsible for themselves. To think that we can still behave in ignorance of ourselves because we are "forgiven," because "Jesus dies for our sins," is utterly ridiculous. 

I started this essay out on a superficial condemnation of such Christian notions as "forgiveness of sins" and Christ's "dying for our sins" and "redeeming" us, and, as I looked, I came into a deeper and truer understanding of what such what are now Christian cliches actually convey. The ignorant must suffer through life after life of their own karmic results until they learn how to stop making such karma/sin for themselves, and themselves learn and choose to "turn the other cheek." I see that Jesus did "die for our sins" because he did not seek either retribution or self-protection in spite of the fear for his life and for the impending pain and suffering that was to come to him because of his choice and because of the enmity and self-ignorance of other human beings. On the other hand, Jesus did NOT "die for your sins," but rather because he was aware of himself AS those others who killed him and had no true choice but to do it as he did.

OBFUSCATING

 Of late I read a good (?) portion of Wings of the Dove by Henry James. I found it to be a bit of a verbal vortex, leading further and further inward as well as spiraling outward and away. The closer I got to understanding anything, I started noticing that I was further away. At first I thought this might be some kind of use of irony and read along in that kind of mind, only to realize that it wasn't irony at all: it was purposeful obfuscation! Initially I liked the way it was written; it was somewhat similar to the way I think and even to the way I write at times. Then I began that James's writing was a literal avoidance of actually writing anything that might be understood. I came to see that whatever was "understood" would be of my own doing and not the author's. This had been my second attempt to "get into" Henry James's style and emplotment. I realized that his writing is a ploy to entrap and to otherwise trick his readers. In becoming aware of what seemed to me pure insincerity and nasty manipulation of his readers, I chose to no longer be one, and put the book in a box for Grey Bears, thinking nothing more of the book or its author. Then I happened to read Sexual Personae by Camille Paglia, who had pretty much the exact same take that I had of Henry James, which I found to be very perceptive coming for Paglia, for whom I have much respect for what I see as her deep insight into literature, art and the history of each. 

But I did notice how James seemingly sincerely prefers or perhaps needs to obfuscate, which is to say, avoids saying what is actually to be said, realizing that this is also very much my own "style," as it were. What comes to mind is Wittgenstein's statement in which he comments on his own book, noting that what is to be most understood is what he did not say, rather than what he did. For it is what we do not say, rather than what we do say, that is most telling and most true. Irony or paradox may have a place in such telling, though not necessarily at all. 

For many years I practiced Zen Buddhism, even to the point of being a Zen monk in a Zen monastery. I observed my own thinking closely for a good forty years and learned that it is what I don't say that has the most importance and reality to me, which is to say that my own conversation, as well as the thoughts that drive it, is primarily an obfuscation. So I found James to be intriguing in the sense of the seeming mystery he presented, until it became clear that it was avoidance and not really mystery that was involved. I realized that I too avoid and that, generally speaking, most "meaningful" speech is pure avoidance. Speaking may have nuance, but doing does not. Being, having no intention in itself, has no nuance. Nuance implies guessing. Action too, I realize, may be false, insincere, but only to a point. 

I have been quite concrete here, even focused, which is not usual for me. Usually I get quite relative rather quickly. For being of any particular mind instantly awakens its opposites, of which there are strangely a ricocheting myriad. I quickly choose sides by choosing none or by at least seeing all, which is never really the case anyway. I present endless considerations and even more questions, though acting without thought, perhaps on instinct, is another avenue for me.

What is called "Buddhist mind" can intervene for me, though I also question it as well. It moves from "self" to "no-self" to "no no-self," which can be seen as "Self," from a Jungian and other perspectives. Too much "no self" creates a "vanished self" which is too passive and, in my estimation, "lost" in our Western culture of "self." Still, I do value this "obfuscation" since it is closer to my own notion that I do not "know myself," since there is no "myself" as such to know. At best I may come to be somewhat familiar with a good number of "myselves." In most respects or perhaps in all, I am a figment of my own imagination. Are not we all such? So obfuscation may be our most pragmatic and wisest choice, though on the other hands, we may be destined to learn only from our mis-takes.

CERTAIN TRUTHS AND FALSE ASSUMPTIONS

 

I realized that I (and so many others) have been operating from a false assumption. Briefly, the false assumption is that one is “freed” from the “prison” of the body upon death, which has had the effect of “biding my time” until I do die and can then exist much more freely. This notion is patently false; one is freed from the physical body, yes, but the rest of the “bodies (or realms) of limitation,” including the soul itself remain thus “imprisoning” the spirit. Gnosticism holds that the spirit is held within the soul, and that, thus the soul too must become aware enough of the spirit within it, before the spirit can be freed. The framework of these different “enclosures” of the spirit, from a theosophical and gnostic view (with a few variations here and there) consist of the personality, which encompasses the mental apparatus (referred to as the “lower mental”), emotion (astral), and physical (body). There is also the “higher mind” which is in relationship with the individual soul, which becomes aware of the indwelling spirit, which is “divine,” “a spark of the Light of God,” as it were. But the soul itself has been affected by the material world even to the point of being damaged and with little memory of its indwelling spirit, which is “imprisoned” until the soul becomes aware and engages in its own purification and those of the personality. Just because one dies and seemingly is freed of the body, one is not freed of the bodies of the emotions, the mind, nor the soul (which still holds the spirit). Thus, one is “stuck” in the series of reincarnations until the soul evolves and frees the spirit. Then one returns as a Bodhisattva, to use the Buddhist term, or as some kind of Savior of Humanity, until the time when all humans are able to free the spirit within them, and thus have a “perfect world with perfect beings.”

 

If the above is true, there is only this moment in which to work and be on all the levels of being; the death of the body is not that “freeing moment” in which we “see God.” You either have that moment in this moment or you don’t. It’s all right now and not after you die. “Waiting until you die to be freed” is one horrendously false assumption.

AN EXPLANATION OF SORTS

 

I practiced Buddhist meditation, primarily zazen, for forty years, and Theosophical meditation for almost twenty. I was raised and educated in Roman Catholicism. I have a PhD in Depth Psychology (Jungian). The result of all this is a kind of “zen mind,” which is not necessarily desirable in Western culture and society. This “zen mind” of mine is a strange one, for I also took a lot of LSD, which also turned out to be a strong spiritual path while it and I lasted. So there is a quite mystical, Jungian, Gnostic, Catholic aspect within me. These various backgrounds express themselves; I’m not so “zen” as I purport to be. In my living room is a Russian Orthodox icon of Jesus, to whom I have spoken (yes, prayed) many times and still do, though I claim to be a “non-believer”; my rational mind cannot conceive of believing, however, as a child, I believed. Catholicism is a mystical religion which relishes “mystery,” which is to say “not knowing.” It is quite Buddhist in that respect. I should note that I do not believe in Buddhism either; I have tasted too much of Krishnamurti in many respects. But, as exemplified in my previous posting to this blog, I do believe that there is power in Christianity and in prayer. It is the power of two thousand years of Christian belief in Christ, which has had the effect of creating something that has become actually real. I don’t believe it is mere coincidence or accident that my prayers “have been answered” numerous times over the years. I have seen results that would be called “miracles” and, to my mind, were miracles. Theosophists would say that such faith and belief over so long became thoughtforms that were literally brought to life. Almost in spite of my rational mind and even my zen non-belief in such things, I also hold true that that what happens is “meant to happen”; so that one may make choices and learn and evolve. My ultimate view is that “I” can both “contain” and “be” these seemingly contradicting forces and truths simultaneously. I don’t see it as one or the other but as both, or, in reality, as many. I have experienced and simply know too much to view it otherwise. This is not to boast. Sometimes one has not the choice to ignore, which is to say, be ignorant. And this is not to say that I do not know that I am ignorant. What I say here may sound like I am a very confused person, but in fact I’m not. In fact I make total sense. And I put this all in my blog here because it may serve the function of bringing clarity or even accuracy to someone, even if that someone be just me.

FROM REAL BOY TO FLESH PUPPET: THE PINOCCHIO REVERSAL

 

I close my eyes and see great distances through time and space, as if I were traveling light years. It is an awareness in the moment which is seemingly not contained in time or space.

 

Quite suddenly, I had a "cosmic moment" this morning. In a particular moment I was absolutely aware that the whole universe was directly and completely expressing itself in that moment in that place and seeing it through my eyes and experiencing itself right there, as if all time and space were located exactly here and now. Afterwards I went for a walk up on a local mountain ridge and each person (other hikers) looked me in the eye and we "recognized each other" in "the cosmic realm."

 

There is nothing “to be done” with this: it is a multidimensional state. It is a “reminder” of such though. It does make a difference because it conveys truer perspective of “myself” and what that is and isn’t. I see “myself” as a kind of “lens” through which things are seen and perceived, even though the lens is really just a function of being. I don’t even know what that means though. It is like “simply appearing”; I am as an appearance that believes it is real, and, in that belief, it becomes real. Pinocchio in reverse, starting out as a “real boy” and then recognizing himself to be a flesh puppet. This recognition is only just “seeing the truth” of things.

 

I do sleep at night—with the proper sleep and pain meds—and I awaken to pain after a limited sleep. This would seem to be an impediment in my life. But it probably causes me to fall asleep in the afternoon or evening, and I have lucid dreams in which I am aware of where I am and what I am doing, at least somewhat. These are rather trippy, mystical dreams that provide “insights” or even experiences of different “dimensions” of existence. I some ways I believe that I am “led” in my life to become aware or conscious of various realities, which is to say that my pain and lack of sleep provide the opportunity for a new opening in which I see new vistas of being. I tend to see all of life in this mystical and magical way. This gives me an interest, curiosity, and fascination with “what happens.” I see that “what happens” in life can be horrendous, but that even that is “purposeful” and can be learned from. I may be quite fearful when death comes: after this last frightening MRI with its ear-shattering, chaotic, clashing sounds (which arise from the collision of magnetic fields bombarding and passing through one’s body), I had a sense that this is what might happen when one dies, which is frightening to me. But I would come to bear the unbearable since there is no other choice. It would have the effect of further unraveling that which I believe myself to be. I no longer “sit” in zazen (Buddhist meditation) but I find that I tend to naturally meditate, that such is often my natural state of mind (which does not mean that I am particularly equaniminous–in a state of equanimity–at all). I am perhaps in a state in which I am aware of how I feel, i.e. which emotions I am experiencing and maybe even their source in my thought or body, but such awareness/experience/attention does not dissipate anything necessarily. For instance, when I am in pain, I am definitely in fucking pain, for which I take half a Vicodin. I don’t believe that any purpose of meditation it to escape from whatever may be occurring.

The Dream of My Dreaming

 

The story continues (sorry for the typos; reading my own material for editing puts me literally to sleep, as I imagine you already know). Suffice it to say that “becoming a hippie” is a metaphor for opening one’s mind to “the unknown” and to discover life “as a strange trip.” I would add, “a most fascinating trip.” I ended up, after another forty years plus of Zen and Krishnamurti, as one who has had an adventurous, interesting story to tell, to remember. Actually, it’s still happening; it is still utterly strange and wonderful and horrendous. Living in a world run rampant with insanity is a challenge to sane people. I don’t believe it possible to “know thyself” since it is clear to me that “self” is a constantly changing, moving, ephemeral thing, if even that. So what I “do” is to see if I can come to terms with whatever it is I am seeing as “myself” in the moment and my “being in the world,” whatever I am seeing what “the world” is in any particular moment. I have become a bit of a reflection of light on an undulating wave upon the surface of a vast, endless ocean. As “a matter of fact,” I had an interesting dream a few months ago:
 
I awaken laying on the bottom of a small coracle (a round Welsh boat) floating upon a great placid sea. I should be uncomfortable but I am actually quite comfortable as I look up at the blue sky and gaze in the distance at the endless glistening waves. I just sit there placidly myself as the day passes. I have no thoughts but simply see what I see, as if I am the blue sky and the endless waves. As the sky darkens and the sun sets, I lay down and fall asleep. Then I dream I am being born as a tiny baby. I grow from baby to childhood to adulthood to old age and then death. And then I wake up in the warm sun as I lay on the bottom of a small coracle. Every day I float upon the sea and every night I fall asleep and dream again that I am born again. Every single night over endless time. And every dream is wonderful in its joy and utter sadness and profound drama. I see that this particular dream of all my dreaming is more than just a metaphor or a jumble of images in my brain.