HOW ONE PERSON SEES BEING

As I have become more and more formally familiar with what would be called "zen mind" (or, more accurately, "zen no-mind") over the last fifty years, since age twenty or so, I see that even as a young child I was drawn towards that which was not apparent or not even, for all intents and purposes, there. As a young child, I was intently curious to find that which could not be "found," that which could not be spoken; I knew within myself that there was "something more" or "something quite hidden" that lay behind all appearances and was alive within myself. I'm not sure what happened first but both events did happen when I was seven years of age and had just moved into a "new" home in Albany (New York) in 1954. One event was that I was very sick with a fever and that I experienced myself literally "vanishing" before my eyes; I vanished from my own sight though I knew my consciousness was still present. The other event entails the fact that six months before we moved into our new home, the man who had lived there, came home one day from the bank where he worked and had hung himself in what was to become my bedroom. To be succinct, he appeared to me as a hanging man, eyes bugged and tongue hanging out, at the end of my bed, horrifying me. Then, realizing he had badly frightened me, he returned soon after as a voice and a physical presence but without physical appearance, that is, invisible. He was my friend for a number of years and we communicated almost every night. There is another ongoing event that eventually led me to an appearance of "zen accomplishment" but was really no such thing. My father, who had severe PTSD from WWII and D-Day, would go into freak-outs and be very physically abusive of me. At such times I "naturally" would leave my body to avoid the pain being inflicted upon me. I had a "ghost" as my best friend, so my "leaving the body" seemed rather natural to me as well. Many years later, the "zens" (I mean no disrepect with this term) thought I was quite an advanced meditator since I could "sit" (zazen) motionless for up to seven hours at a time. Once I realized how easy it was for me to "leave my body" like that, it became apparent that my challenge was to actually "come back in" to my body. In time I learned to live in my body and stay in when faced with confrontations, to the point of even getting into fights now and then (though more for self-protection and protection of others than mere arrogance). 

As time has progressed, my thinking has tended more and more towards zen notions of mu ("nothingness" or "emptiness" or "being") and Daoist notions of wu ("non-being" or "primordial being"). It seems to me, based on my own experience, that life and living point in this direction of a kind of "primordial oneness of being" in which no thing and no self (as ego) exist. I don't tend to be in that awareness at all but have seemed to have tasted it, as it were, in zazen and vipassana meditations and also in those few years in my 20s when I had the opportunity to take large amounts of LSD. The "spiritually hallucinogenic" qualities of lysergic acid are traced back to the Eleusinian Mysteries of the Temple of Demeter and beyond. Zen promulgates the "ordinary" of everyday life as the sacred "suchness of being." This is where my interest lies, though such an interest is not particularly conducive to any kind of conceptual writing, which is more of a Western habit of mental expression. I am still considering once again changing the title of the blog to Human Being, after already changing it to its current title. I seem to get more and more and more basic in my worldview or essential questioning. I also appreciate the notion that zen is based in the ability to doubt and to question, to always "look beneath," as it were, while in the midst of the "here and now" apparent world.

BEYOND "COLLECTIVE UNCONSCIOUS", BENEATH "SELF"

Over many years I felt that Jung's "view of reality," as it were, fell short, that is, was quite incomplete, though, in all fairness, deeper and more complete than most other psychological perspectives. I particularly found that his perspectives on "Eastern" approaches to reality, such as Buddhism and Daoism, even in lieu of the fact that he wrote the Introduction to Wilhelm's I Ching, were lacking, not necessarily in the analytical sense but absolutely in the experiential sense. I wondered how he could even think to comment on the essence of Buddhist meditation, for instance, having never practised it himself, but based on his intellectual "analysis" of it. In my own experience of many, many years of zazen and vipassana meditation, its "essence" is not an intellectual, mental, or even intuitive conclusion whatsoever; rather, it is more of a state of being. I attempted on occassion to articulate this point to my various associates who were followers of Jung and considered themselves to be "Jungians," but I was never articulate enough to convey my point either accurately or successfully, even though I did write a few essays regarding Jung's failure to comprehend or experience the essence of Buddhism or Daoism. I say this in no way to denigrate from Jung's accomplishments in going farther than other Western psychologists in his search for and understanding of the soul.

I recently came across something that may convey somewhat of what I had wanted to convey. David Brazier, in his book, Zen Therapy: Transcending the Sorrow of the Human Mind, is able to capsulize Zen teachings and articulate them quite well. He integrates Zen thinking with many Western psychological approaches quite well.  What follows is germane to my point:

"In Buddhist psychology, the word 'self' is the collective noun for all conditioning. In the west, most psychology is concerned with the level of the mind called 'consciousness' or ego. Most psychology is ego psychology. There are psychologies which try to reach deeper than this and go into the unconscious layer. Then there is what is call 'depth psychology' which attempts to fathom the collective unconscious. Zen is the attempt to go even further than this: (Brazier, 81)

 We have unknown layers, or realms of consciousness within  us. And through meditation,we can perceive how states of  consciousness can be altered ... We begin to realize that 
 we are, in fact, a storehouse for all human history. Jung  termed these deep layers of the psyche as 'the collective  unconscious', and asserted that they were the most  profound parts of our nature. With continuing experiences  in meditation, however, we come to realize that this  theory is not quite right. We can actually penetrate beyond  [though I  would say 'beneath'] the depths of the collective  unconscious of human nature and there come to the  bottomless sea of Buddha-nature. If we go beyond the  collective  unconscious, thereby breaking through the final  barrier of the unconscious layers, we experience true birth  completely anew in the ocean of true emptiness. this is  infinite freedom of no-self, no-mind, no-idea; this is life  itself, completely unconditioned. Here in the infinite no-  mind we find flowers, the moon, our friends and  families,  and all things just as they are; we appreciate our everyday  lives as miracles. But please confirm this for yourself. (Hogen, Y. On the Open Way. Liskeard, Cornwall:Jiko Oasis  Books, 1993)"

Brazier goes on to say, "Even the archetypes of the collective unconscious represent ways of dividing the world of experience. Often enough, the contents of the unconscious are the 'other halves' [a reference to William James's notion of the two 'halves' of 'me' and 'not me'], the split-off parts, of our consciousness which we have repressed. Discovering them can thus be an important step on the road to wholeness. Rather than putting ourselves back together item by item, however, Zen offers the more demanding route of rediscovering the original unity directly through experiences of 'sudden awakening'." (Brazier, Zen Therapy, 83)

In other words, Zen tries to return us to our "primordial nature," or "original awareness," which is a "whole or unified ground of being," rather than being "individually mine/ours." In this respect, "I" do not exist there/here. 

In presenting this perspective, I do not pretend to possess it, though aspects of it have become known to me on occassion. 

"SEEING THROUGH YOURSELF": ANOTHER TAKE

When I first came up with the part of the blog title, SEEING THROUGH YOURSELF, my view was simply one-dimensional: to "see through yourself" is to see through what you believe yourself to be, and thus, see beyond your own little world and your own little mind, as it were. However, there is another meaning that I just realized today while walking in the forest: you also see "by means of" yourself. In other words, it is "yourself" by which, through which, you are able to understand who and what you are. If yourself was not present and involved, you would not possess the means, the vehicle, by which you are understandable to yourself. "You" can't get anywhere without yourself. We need ourselves if we are to be able to "see," to understand. We are our own agents in this process of self-understanding. Yourself provides both the necessary motivation and the required means to self-knowledge. This sounds utterly simplistic but it has immense implications, such as: it is myself who seeks to see who I am, what I'm doing, and why I'm doing it, or thinking, or feeling it. There is no other in this mix; no deity and no corresponding belief system which relegates yourself to a secondary agency in the process. You are "it" for yourself. Eventually we ponder the notion of there being no "you" at all, but in the beginning in particular, there is what you call and believe to be "yourself." In my own estimation you have to "find yourself" before you can "get beyond yourself." Most of us tend to start out "lost" rather than "found," and then may possibly move on to being "neither lost nor found." In my estimation we must first "have a sense of ourself" and move on from there. Socrates said, "To know thyself is the beginning of wisdom."

You may have noticed that I changed the title of this blog from METAPHYSICAL FORCES IN FLUX: WHAT ON EARTH IS HAPPENING? I realized I didn't know didly-squat about "metaphysical forces," much less "metaphysical forces in flux." Dare I say it was more of a "mindflux" primarily upon myself? "Too much irony makes one overwrought." (That being my own quote). So I had to come up with something else that I know nothing about, but may perhaps be less pretentious. As I see it, the new title may be "big", yes, but more of an open challenge to be held and taken on in various ways. I do believe that life is a journey of self-understanding, or at least, of learning what is. This may sound awfully simplistic but I am not so simple, nor do I believe is anyone who may read this.

I write this blog as a possible service to anyone who might seek to understand themselves and/or life itself. The blog is more my "process" of self-understanding or "seeing through myself" than anything else. I have written every day in a journal for many years as something akin to zazen-in-print in addition to sitting at times. There are very, very few readers of this blog, but this is how it is and if someone benefits, I am pleased that I "helped" someone perhaps to approach themselves in some good way. So this blog is my particular connection, worded as it may be, with humanity. I actually have much to say and have said a few things in the past. When I happen to see my older writings, I wonder who wrote them, knowing that I cannot possibly articulate anything that well. Heart speaks clearly; thought obscures.

A NEW LEAF

Life happens, so it is said. It passes; we pass with it. We believe we're "taking it as it is" until it changes abruptly. Only then do we realize that we had no idea "how it is." Only then do we realize how uncertain life is, how uncertain even we are. We believe we "know ourselves," know "who we are," "how we are." But then something happens and we find that we actually know very little, much less "who we are." At such times we may come to a point at which we make conscious choices about "doing what is called for in the moment," or we may just "do it" seemingly instinctively because it is what "must be done." But this generally only happens after we are first devastated by reality, by "what is." Some stay devastated; others get through it. One must certainly "get over oneself" if they are to get through it. But to "get over oneself," one must "get under oneself," which is to say, be able to "see through oneself," to understand how one is, how one lives in a false world of his or her own making.

We are not what we think we are, how we think we are. Rather, we are as we actually are. There is always more to us. We are every step of the journey we take in life, from beginning to end. We are the next step we take. We unfold, unwrinkle, unravel. There is no magic, no miracle, no god, no "way"; there is ourselves. There is what is. But "what is" is not static or defined and is as flowing water. And how can one possibly  "know" flowing water? One cannot. We can only become as flowing water ourselves. Does flowing water "know itself"? I don't think so; it can only be itself, even though it has no solid form, no "self" as such, but only an appearance of self, of form. I think this is how it is, how we "are." Why do I think that? Because I know there is the wind blowing the trees outside my windown and I cannot see it but know it is present as it is. Because I know the ocean, just a mile away, undulates, ebbs, and flows; I can hear the crashing surf as well. Sometimes I am very aware that I am alive within this aging flesh and making motions through this body, knowing it is temporary, an important phase, holding many clues from which something is to be learned, gleaned, realized, applied. 

My focus, my thoughts, for most of my life, have been as they are now. I watch leaves fall from trees now with much the same wonder as I did as a baby from my carriage. This is "seeing yourself through." But to be able to wonder as a child wonders is to allow oneself to be devastated by reality, by what is. For all we do is constantly and perpetually build up a version of being in the world that insulates us enough that we can live with it. There are always "final straws" that break our backs, as it were, but after picking up the pieces, we reestablish and rebuild our "self-realities" once again that we might once again be "functional" in a dysfunctional existence. None of this is "good" or "bad"; it is just the way it is, until, of course, it isn't. I would love to digress into wonderfully poetic metaphors but will restrain myself.

A BIT OF CLEAR THOUGHT

“God,” i.e. the belief “in God” only gets in the way of one with oneself, is a convenient impediment used throughout history, to allow people to not have to be responsible for themselves. Thus, if it goes your way, it is a “miracle,” and, if not, “God’s will.” Individual never has to take responsibility for themselves as the agents of their own lives. If one relies on “God saving them,” when one gets oneself into a pickle, one never experiences the ability and agency of “saving oneself.” “God” is the “Great Enabler in the Sky.” All drowning men want a Rescuer but those who live do it because they got to the point where they had to save themselves. This may be the true “way of the Lord.” The scales of blind faith have fallen from my eyes. One is tossed back upon oneself; this is life’s way. It is better to learn to be oneself than to believe that oneself is insufficient. Self-sufficiency, even if flawed, is better than self-deceit, even if group, social, or cultural self-deceit. This may sound overly simplistic but it is nevertheless true.

TO JOSEPH, AGE 8, BEWILDERED

Dear Joseph,

Given the way you are, your life will tend to be an adventure and a dangerous one at that, since you have no inherent real idea of “normality” or “conventionality.” And though you may feel fear; that in itself does not inhibit you from going to the edge or even over at times. “The way you are” may be the result of your last lifetime in which you were killed as a rabbi in a concentration camp, to be brief: all your “convention” and “obedience” led you nowhere, got you nothing, and was the downfall of your people. Then you were born premature in this lifetime and bonded with no living beings, setting you immediately outside, making you inherently “outcast.” You were attacked by the Richman boys at an early age, then you were beaten by your father not soon after, and noticed that you naturally could move outside of your own body. Soon enough the ghost in your room appeared and opened your eyes to absolutely different realities and stuck around a while as well. Then finally, at age seven, you got very sick and vanished before your own eyes; you learned that you could cease to exist just like that. You may have taken after your father who was impulsive and willful, as well as your mother, who had the “sight” of her Indian blood and its Buddhist-like outlook, though with much of an inherent sense of magic powers, combined with the rousing Irish fiddle and poetic thrust. Your Scots-Irish Cherokee Choctaw grandfather dropped dead rollicking his Irish fiddle in front of his corn liquor still. The fearless love of adventure of your ancient Viking ancestors via your grandfather’s italian “lion” heritage still stirs in your blood along with the blind faith of your great-grandfather who fought with Garabaldi. And so your life will prove to be an adventure often fraught with too much danger. But both the Lord and the Gods will hold you close enough that you may finally come to realize your place in the world and in the context of the Heavens, though, at the same time, it may never come to fruition in this lifetime. Reincarnation is as a “serial adventure,” causing us to return so as not to miss the next episode. And life is Saturday morning 1950s black and white TV for children. All daring adventure mixed with absurd cartoons and craving for cookies and more cereal. However, life is not so simple as watching action series and cartoons on Saturday morning: there is the matter of your fate and your destiny, which are interwoven. Your destiny are the choices you make and the directions you take within the context of your fate, for you are part and parcel of your own fate, that is , of what happens in your life. 

IN A DARK, COLD, DAMP CAVERN WITH NO IMAGES

The cultural and societal directions of this country and the world seem to be regressing, becoming more tribal and defensive and fearful, and dangerous as a result. People cannot adapt or assimilate to new and different cultures and societies, unwilling and unable to adapt themselves. I have become strangely more religious these days. It could be because I can no longer see how I or anyone else can possibly make life better for myself or my world. The fact that too many people suffer “out there” becomes less and less bearable for me. On one hand, I live in Heaven; on the other, I live in Hell. One must be able to live in both worlds.

His moments of life were passing before him so utterly clearly, like water flowing in an icy mountain stream. But he could not sense either the gods or the God speaking to him or to anyone in any way. Time was slipping like sand out of his grip and all he could do was sit and wait—and die more as each moment passed. He waited, not patiently--desperately. It was no wonder existence had become so meaningless and absurd to him; God no longer spoke nor cared and he was utterly alone. Only in his dreams was there any hope, but they too were as empty as himself. He was a shadow; it was as if he no longer existed. And yet he wanted to exist; he wanted so much to be. He was as a voyeur spying upon himself, waiting for a sign of life, waiting for God to notice him that he may notice himself, waiting for the slightest word that he may hear himself. 

The room had not changed but the shadows were not the same. He could not find words; there was only dark oily smoke in the cold cavern; he held cold coals in his hand but his mind was empty of any image. He was a blank and, though he stood there in the smoky, dark coldness, he was nothing. He might as well not exist at all; the embers were barely burning under a deep cover of ashes. All he needed was fresh fuel for the fire and the whistling cavernous wind would cause him to burst into flame once again. What purpose could he burn for now? 

His writing was hopeless, literally and figuratively. People might read it, but he would see that they could only shake their heads in pity at his inability, his pathetic grasping at straws as he sank down drowning in his own hopelessness. His anger came from his last grasps and gasps; he had to pretend that he “had something,” knowing that whatever it might be would never be apparent to him or anyone else. He could only see that he had grasped nothing at all after a lifetime of hoping and praying and grasping. He recalled the words of Leonard Cohen: “Only drowning men could see him.” And here he was drowning, yet still could not see him. Drowning in aloneness, standing in the cold, dark, smoky cavern staring at blank rock face with dumb, frozen fingers and no thought to warm them, much less move them. There was no voice in his soul, no art in his heart, no sign in his mind. He had ceased to exist.

If he attempted to “sit,” he would doze off. He might sit in the hot tub and gaze up at the stars, which were faintly visible. He hated being faced with nothing possible to do or be. He had the thought that this place he was in might be Hell itself, though he knew that the physical pain could make it much, much worse. He was grateful that, comparatively, his life was very “blessed” and that he was in fact very “lucky.” Yet there was a profound sense of sadness and incompletion that weighed heavily upon him. “Next lifetime I’ll be a scale,” he thought, “so that people can weigh heavily upon me.” Such humor. Philosophers and scales share this same fate.