Losing identity, finding purpose

If you've read two of the last 3 articles I've posted, you might have come to see a sort of gap between what I've said. On the one hand, we are supposed to stand up and act, but on the other hand, there is no one here to identify with. Who are we, and who is supposed to act? It seems like it can get a bit confusing, and when we have this sort of identity crises, sometimes, it's hard to see how we fit into the bigger picture and how to know what to do next. Oftentimes, people end up believing that they don't have to do anything, they are perfect already, they are one with the infinite already, and they fail to find their sense of purpose, which is important for effecting change.

When we break down the elements of the "us" that belongs to the conventional view of reality, we find that it seems to silly to think there is an inherent self that we can identify with. Not knowing where to turn, we look to the Ultimate, to the Absolute, as a way of finding that warm comfy feeling, the one that allows us to feel as though we still exist and that we are important. But this too, doesn't seem to work, because we've still solidified a sense that "we" are. As soon as we have created ourselves, in this way, we have created a duality. If we are, then surely there must be something that we aren't. If I want to identify with that which is one with everything, I've created a "me." If there is a me, there must surely be something that is not me. But if everything is one, there can not be two. So, how can there be a me? And the question is, does it really matter? If I take myself out of the equation, there is just  this body, just this mind, just the process taking place, and just this Universe. While I can't seem to pinpoint myself, with this view, I also don't feel left out. I understand that this body, this mind, and this Universe are one, and I know that in an experiential sense, I belong.

So with that feeling or sense of belonging, a sense of purpose arises, a sense of responsibility. If I am the caretaker for this body, am I not also the caretaker to this planet? How can my jurisdiction have a boundary? How can I see a problem in the world and feel detached? It's not about seeing a person suffering, and say to myself, "That person there is suffering, but not me, I am over here, I am fine." Instead, it's about seeing, "There is suffering." I don't need to become self-righteous about it, thinking that I am so important, that I am needed everywhere, but more about connecting to that place of compassion within, that place that genuinely cares about the wellbeing of others, including animals.

It is a common experience that if you take a child fishing at a young age, they will have an aversion to killing the fish. But if you keep taking that child fishing, this innate sense of wanting to practice non-harming to another living thing fades away. Pretty soon, the child doesn't think twice about taking the life of the catch of the day, seeing it as nothing more than a tasty dinner. While in a sense, there is some wisdom there, seeing that everything has to die. Also, I'm not here to state a view about whether or not it is wrong to kill animals. Traditionally, native tribes of North America have performed rituals after killing animals, which they needed to do to survive. The animal never just became a means to an end, a new warm coat or a hearty meal, they never lost their connection to this place of honoring the fact that all forms of life are valid, and interconnected. Instead, they offer a sense of gratitude, and maybe a blessing to the spirit of the animal that is no longer inhabiting its body.

Deep down, somewhere within us, we all have this sense of belonging, of being one with the rest of life, but without connecting with it, we forget. We "go along" with whatever we are presented, and if you come from a place like Alaska, chances are, you participate in activities such as hunting and fishing. Having been introduced at such a young age, without the teachings of gratitude and respect that many indigenous cultures have, I became deluded, thinking that I was above the other life forms here on planet earth, that they were here to serve me. When I moved to Montana to go to university, I remember taking my shotgun camping and playing a game with a friend. He had his gun, I had mine, and we walked around, killing whatever moved. We assigned different points for different sizes of animals, and the first to 10 points, won. I remember delighting in shooting down a moving target, not feeling bad to the slightest about taking a life for absolutely no reason, other than for my personal enjoyment. 

Now, almost 10 years later, I watch my step as I walk down the road, being careful not to kill an ant, and when a mosquito lands on me, I lightly brush it away, even if I'm in an area with Malaria. So what happened? Sometimes, my old friends ask me,"What happened to you?" I want to ask them, "Who exactly, are you talking to?"

Where is the "me" that they are referring to? What is it that people believe remains unchanged over time? I have looked, and there is no-thing in me that was here 10 years ago, that is still here, unchanged. Yes, there are tendencies, and I still have some of the same characteristics, but they aren't really me. If I stop identifying with that which is impermanent, and not really me, what is left is that connection to the infinite, to the permanent. There is nothing there to grab onto, nothing there to identify with, but we can still feel that it's there. Part of that, is that undeniable connection with the rest of life, with all of nature. It's not a view, it doesn't exist in the mind. It's a feeling, it's a sense of being a part of everything else, indivisible from the whole. As soon as I identify with this feeling, I've created a duality and am no longer connecting. So when we stop identifying, we remember how to connect with that which we once knew. We come back to that place that has a general sense of good-will for others, including animals, the environment, and the planet as a whole.

The next step, after we connect, is to find our purpose, and this is a matter of each individual. As soon as someone stands up and says, "You should be doing this, or not doing that," they are projecting their view onto you, and we can see that it is a product of their mind, and not something that has any real meaning. What has meaning, is our own connection, our own ability to feel and love and be moved, and only from that place can we find our purpose. There is no right way and wrong way, only what is aligned with that connection within and what is disconnected. The problem is, that once we connect, the rest doesn't necessarily become crystal clear. We're used to being spoken to, being told what to do, since the time we were children. Our parents inevitably gave us instruction, do this, don't do that, and so did our teachers at school. They were able to use language and spoken word to give us directions, and so we are used to getting directions in clear, decipherable language, but the heart doesn't always speak to us in terms of "do this, don't do that." In fact, it doesn't speak at all, in the most literal sense.

Deciphering the language of the heart is somewhat of a skill. We might feel moved by a situation, and compelled to act, but we might now know exactly where we fit in. The feeling can be clear, but the details remain a mystery.

"I see so much suffering in the world, but I don't know what to do about it."

This is a common reaction for those who open up to the suffering of others. The heart is moved, and they want to make a difference, but it can be a bit overwhelming. There are limited resources, personal limitations, and responsibilities to consider. We want to save the world, but we see our inability to do so. Many of us, unfortunately, decide to give up.

"I'm just one person, what can I really expect to achieve?"

This is giving in to the fear that we aren't good enough to make a difference. Instead, can we stay connected to that place within us, that place that is moved, and feels compassion? If we can, and we are patient, we will be on our way to finding out purpose. It might come with a clear and concise message, but it might not. It might develop on its own, growing, adapting, and leaving smaller hints as clues as to ways to fit in. Finding our purpose might not be as simple as saying, "I will be an environmentalist," or "I will be an activist." What is happening here? Clearly, we have fallen back into the game of trying to identify with something. We had to let go of identity to find this place of connectivity, so why would we fall back into the trap of identifying with a purpose?

Again, this is a game of the ego, wanting to feel important, and to distinguish itself with the rest of the Universe. This doesn't mean that we shouldn't do environmental work, or shouldn't get involved in activism. It just means if we identify ourselves with a sense of purpose, we risk seeing the identity as our purpose, instead of the actual work we are doing. When we ask someone what they do, they usually respond with their identity, not by stating what it is they actually do. "I am a carpenter," or "I am a teacher," is the response, instead of "I build houses," or "I teach English." We don't go around asking people, "Who are you," do we? We ask people what they do, but instead, they tell us who they are. This is because we have developed a certain identity based around what we do. We have become attached to our roles.

A role can never be a purpose. What we do is not who or what we really are. If we identify with our purpose, we've divided ourselves, and then we risk losing the connection that helps us find purpose in the first place. By creating the sense of self, we assign a value to ourselves. "I am a good person, I help a lot of people." "I am an environmentalist, I am important."

To really connect with our purpose, we need to stop identifying with things, ideas, roles, and that which separates us from the rest of existence. It might not come in the form of a clear message, giving us easy to swallow instructions. Instead, we need to stay connected to the feeling of connectedness, and use it as our guide. When we see a way we can fit in, when we are called into action, we can step up to the plate and do what we can to make a difference, without getting entangled in the sense that there is a doer. If we forget there is no doer, we are likely to fall back into the trap of the ego and identify with what we are doing, thereby severing the connection that keeps us aligned with our purpose. As you can see, it's not as easy as taking a look and then making a decision. This is a process here, and if you just try to squeeze out an answer, you will probably end up with an identity.

Finding your purpose isn't about becoming something, it's about acting from that place of love that lies within each and every one of us. It's about listening, and rising to the occasion when being called to act. Instead of being self-righteous about our actions, and trying to own them, we know that they are devoid of being who or what we really are, and we can keep ourselves out of the equation. If we just want something in return, some form of reward, like fame, wealth, or a sense of self-worth, we know we aren't acting from a place of love. So we can take this journey one step at a time, staying connected, being careful not to fall into the traps of the ego, and not becoming overwhelmed with the daunting task of saving the world. We can find our place, we can seize opportunities to get involved, whether big and small, and know that no matter how much good we think we are doing, there is no one here doing anything, no one to take the credit for the doing.

May all beings come to remember their deep and innate connection to this place of love, compassion, tolerance, and wisdom within their own hearts.

May all beings use this connection to listen to their inner guidance and find their purpose, as it unfolds, and to find the strength and courage necessary to act from this sense of purpose.

May all beings discover the true meaning of selfless service, not becoming identified with their purpose and attached to the results of their work.

You can't bind yourself to the unbound

I just had the opportunity to have a dhamma inquiry with a very wise and compassionate Australian teacher named Radha. One of the things I have come to love about India is all the wonderful things that foreigners are doing here, especially in category of western dhamma teachers. There seem to be many retreats that incorporate ecology, permaculture, sustainability, living with nature, etc, and it really seems to be on the leading edge of the western Buddhist movement, if there is one.

One thing that is special about Radha, and she is special, is that she incorporates Advaita, or non-duality, into her teachings. Advaita comes from the Hindu tradition, and so I went to see her specifically to ask the question that has been on my mind lately. I wasn't sure I'd have the opportunity to ask it, but I did, and I'm glad I made the 45 minute walk to the far side of Rishikesh to see her.

So what was my question?

First of all, let me just say that this blog isn't meant to be a way for me to express truth, it should be considered as more of a journey. The only things  expressible are views, and a view can never be a truth. Whether or not my views point to truth, I don't know, I can only offer you my view based on my own experience and understanding, based on my journey. Since a journey isn't a fixed reality, neither are my views, they are constantly changing, constantly growing and adapting. In that respect, if you read one of my blog entries and you form some sort of judgment about me, then you've missed the point. The point, if there is one, is to share my views with the hopes that you will be inspired, on your own journey, to have your own views. Whether or not they are the same as mine, is of little importance.

What is important, is that you are asking the questions, you are looking for answers, and hopefully, that you are looking in the right places (within). It's really quite a beautiful journey to be on, and I think it's important to not hold on to anything I say here, neither by taking it as true or false, just see it for what it is (a view), use it if it helps, and disregard it if it doesn't. If you don't like it, maybe you can better understand your own view in opposition to mine, and it will still be for your benefit. Either way, try to keep an open mind, and please forgive me for any lack of continuity or confusing contradictions. Ideally, we can explore these realms together, learning as we go, and helping each other along the way. We don't have to come to the same place of understanding. As long as we are doing our best to connect with our hearts and make positive changes in the world, the rest are just details.

The tendency, for me anyway, while walking the path, is that every time I get to a new level of understanding, or start to see things differently, I say to myself, "Ah, now I get it, I didn't get it before." This is "me" identifying with my views, and failing to see the point of having a view in the first place. It seems ridiculous that every week, month, or year, I look back at the previous understanding from an elevated seat, always thinking how foolish I was then and how wise I am now. This is a game of the ego. All I am doing in this example is solidifying this sense of "me" that is the one with an understanding. Can a view just be a view? Do I have to own it, to put it into my little box and write my name on it?" "Look at me, everyone, I have the best view." This is just like bragging about having the best car, or the biggest house (keep in mind I have neither, so maybe I'm just jealous).

But really, does a fancy car or a big house really indicate anything about the owner, besides maybe some amount of wealth, or potentially greed, or insecurity? Does it indicate anything as to the value or worth of the person, and tell us how much we should respect them? Absolutely not. In the same way, having a polished view about spirituality doesn't either. In the Buddha's teaching, there is no self here to claim any such things, anyway. Think about it, there is a body, is that what owns a car, a house, or a view? There is this ego, the one certainly taking credit for all of such things, but is the ego who and what we really are? What about our minds? Are we our minds? The Buddha said all of these things are lacking an inherent self. None of them, taken individually, can represent who or what we really are. They are constantly changing, and certainly we can't be what is always changing.

So what are we? Try this on for size.

"We are that which is boundless."

Well, it certainly sounds....romantic. It gives me goosebumps and a warm, fuzzy feeling inside, but the fact remains, it's just a view. Even still, let's explore this idea by going back to the question I asked Radha.

The question went a little something like this:

"If I am not to be found in this body, in this mind, and in these processes, if I can't identify with them, can I identify with that which is boundless?"

Now, I won't try to remember exactly what she said, and it was quite a long conversation, so I'm going to attempt to offer a summary of the understanding she helped me come to.

In the doctrine of the two truths, the Buddha taught that there are two aspects of reality that are both true, and in essence, are not two, but one. On the one hand, there is Ultimate Reality, and on the other, conventional reality. In the Ultimate Reality sense, we are that which is boundless. In the conventional reality sense, my name is Douglas, but I prefer to go by Dougie, it just sounds...more fun.

Okay, so somewhere in there, is this person who wants to understand. Let's call him the seeker. The seeker in me wants to know and understand and put everything into a nice view that he can put into a box and write his name on. But is that what the seeker really wants, or is that what the ego wants? Does the seeker not seek to experience oneness with the boundless, and not try to describe it?

Okay, okay, so she's got me in a bit of a corner here. Maybe I should just delete this blog, deeming it just an attempt of my ego to form a view in order to feel better about myself. Maybe, I should. But, can we not see the validity in this kind of inquiry, in this kind of exploration, and this kind of endeavor to offer a view in the first place? It's not in having a view that is a problem, it's about the identification, the holding on to. What the seeker in me is looking for is letting go, so if I am holding on to anything, a practice, a sense of perspective, a sense that I understand something, or a sense that there is a "me" to even practice, have a perspective, or understand, then I am forgetting the intended purpose of seeking and need to get back to the point.

The point, here, is to be, here. So instead of going to great lengths and efforts to develop an understanding that I can put into words and offer up to you, the reader, why am I not just spending my time connecting with that which is unbound? Wow, this is some pretty heady business here, and a beautiful reminder that when we get lost in the mentality of trying to figure it all out, we might try just letting it all go, and coming back to that which we already are.

I mentioned to her that my goal is to find a common understanding between different traditions and paths, and she asked me something like, "Who is it that wants to do this?"

As it turns out, wanting to identify with that which is boundless is counter-productive. How can I bind myself to that which is unbound? How can I make something so vast into something so tangible? Am I not just looking for a sense of security? She invited me to just be with the present moment, to see what was there for me, without having to identify myself with the boundless. Then, she asked me what I felt. I told her, "peace." I felt a sense of relief, of not having to find an answer to such a difficult question. While it's good to have this sort of inquiring mind, and to have these sort of important questions, it's not always as important to find the answers. When we do have answers, the ego steps in and claims them, and then we are no longer connecting with the essence of who and what we really are. If the point is to compete with others, to make a display of how much I know or understand, than yes, I should try to come up with the most polished answers that I can, but that's not really why I'm here.

For the meantime, I don't see anything wrong with having this blog, and I will take inspiration from Radha to not get too wrapped up in trying to form the perfect view. A view is just a view, and it, along with this body and this mind, will never represent who or what I really am. "Well, that leaves with me with a bit of an identity crises," I told her, half jokingly. But you know what, that is okay, I'm not here to create myself, I'm here to be a part of creation. If, in the meantime, I don't know what that means, I'm going to try practicing being okay with that.

Just by trying to identify with the absolute, with infinity, that which is boundless, I've created a sense of self, a place for "me" to land. If the invitation is to connect with infinity, the connection becomes impossible as soon as I decide there is a me in the first place. As soon as I have divided the whole, to create myself, I've disconnected. I have to remember, that in the Absolute truth, I'm not even here, there is just everything, or nothing, depending on how you want to look at it. If I say, "I am one with the Universe," that is just a view that is created by the mind. It's not much different than saying "I am hungry," or "I am happy." Either way, it's relating something that is conditioned, bound, and limited, with something that is limitless. Can you see how this is a problem?

Can we let go of this idea that we have to understand everything? Can we release the tension around trying to identify with the Absolute, with God, with seeing ourselves as being one with everything? Can we find ways to connect, to be present, and to feel our sense of being, without having to put a label on it?

What is more important, to define freedom, or to be free? For now, I'll keep this in mind, and continue my practice.

To learn more about Radha and her upcoming teaching schedule, visit:

Radha

But I don't wanna clean the toilet: facing aversion head-on

Okay, let's face it, no one really likes to clean toilets, but someone's gotta do it. It's pretty safe to say this has been one area of life that I have had a hard time accepting, and this goes back to as long as I can remember. As a kid, I remember having to clean the bathroom once a week as a part of my chores, and I always hated it. Then, after I left home, the realization became even more prominent, because I found out the bathroom will get pretty gross if it's not cleaned regularly. For many young adults, living on their own, it can be an area that gets neglected.  Usually, at some point, we buckle down, grit our teeth, and get it over with, but is that the way it has to be?

When we have this sort of resistance to something, it is called aversion. In Buddhism, there are 3 things that cause us to suffer, craving, aversion, and ignorance. In this sense, facing our aversions head-on, quite literally when it comes to cleaning toilets, seems like a good usage of our time. I know I want to bring and end to suffering in my life, and so it becomes a matter of figuring out what needs to be done, and then doing it. I know that meditation is the most important practice that leads to freedom and liberation, but this practice of purification extends far beyond the formal practice of sitting silently in the cross-legged position.

Up until recently, on the 10-day retreat I did with Christopher Titmuss in Bodhgaya last month, I always got away without cleaning toilets while on retreat. Even when I spent a month as a monk, I remember only having to clean the toilet once. I was always assigned different jobs and then never was quick to volunteer when the need arose. I kept quiet, waiting for someone else to rise to the task, knowing that it was something I really didn't want to do. Now, as my practice continues to develop and I am getting stronger, I am always looking for ways to get rid of more and more of the junk that I no longer need. Aversion to cleaning toilets can be seen as junk that I don't need. It isn't serving me. In fact, it is causing me to suffer. I think that cleanging toilets will cause me to suffer, but I'm actually suffering from having this aversion, and having dirty bathrooms.

So on that retreat, on the first day, the retreat manager mentioned that there would be a list of tasks for the yogis (meditators) that needed to be done for the retreat to run smoothly. She said that between all of the yogis, all the jobs needed to get done, but she didn't mention how many jobs each person should sign up for. As soon as I heard the list of jobs, which of course, included cleaning the bathrooms, I thought to myself, "Definitely gonna sign up for anything but that!" Then, something happened. Having realized that this thought arose, and then the place of aversion that it came from, I had a change of heart. When I got to the board, that contained the sign-up sheets for all the different jobs, I figured I should at least clean the bathroom once, as that only seemed fair.

But after writing my name once, and thinking about how there was 10-days and three different bathroom blocks to clean, it still seemed like I was trying to fly under the radar. Cleaning toilets one day out of 10 wasn't going to be a way of facing my aversion, it would just strengthen it. It would just be a way of getting it over with, and doing the least amount as possible. That would be like getting over a fear of heights by going to a high place only once. It needs repeatedly be addressed, even if it's a little bit at a time, otherwise, you'll freak yourself out and never want to return to that place of fear, or aversion, within you.

Having realized this, I signed up to clean the toilets on 7 out of 10 days, easily more than anyone else on the retreat. "There, that should do it," I said to myself (the retreat was silent). But that still doesn't address the problem. The problem is that there is a belief that if I can avoid this task, I will be happy, or in other words, that this task will make me unhappy. Even if I did it everyday, or twice a day, I still might end up reinforcing this problematic belief. The only solution, then, is to learn to love it, or at least, to not hate it. One way we can deal with aversion is by recognizing that it is at work. How does aversion manifest? Usually in terms of judgment, or thoughts like, "this is so horrible, I wish I didn't have to be doing this!" If these judgments and thoughts go on unnoticed, they become powerful. They are created by the ego as a way to solidify itself. "I shouldn't have to be doing this," the ego says. But as soon as we start paying attention to these little tricks that the ego plays, it starts to lose its power over us.

"Why shouldn't I have to do this?" you can ask yourself. "Do I not use these toilets, am I not partially responsible for them?" "Would it not make me happy to have a clean facility to use?" Like this, we can start to bring reason into the picture, to balance out the ridiculousness and childishness of the ego. But the ego is looking for a fight, it is a constant provoker, so if we resort to its level, we will be left with a mental battlefield. The key to defeating the ego is not through power or force, but through observation and acceptance. Acceptance, here, comes in the form of admitting that I have a problem. "I accept that I have a problem when it comes to cleaning toilets." The ego doesn't like this, when you practice acceptance like this.

The other step, observation, comes initially, to witness the aversion arising, and then throughout the process of cleaning the toilets, in which the aversion will continue to arise. If we recognize the aversion before we start cleaning, and then go unconscious while cleaning, we will be lost in our judging mind. This is when we need to practice mindfulness of mind. We need to watch the mind like a hawk, knowing that it is mischievous. If you have an opiate junkie in the house, do you leave your pain killers unsupervised? No, you keep them locked down, heavily guarded, constantly supervised. In the same way, we need to watching the mind when we face our aversions, knowing that the ego will manifest and use our voice as its own, posing as us. When we see these judgments, we can say, "I see you, judging mind," and we can be sure that the judgments are representations of aversion, not of who or what we really are. Who or what I really am has nothing to do with cleaning toilets, but as it turns out, my freedom does. So if I want to be free, I need to purify my mind from these aversions.

The other technique here is to practice mindfulness of the actual act of cleaning. This is a way of keeping the mind focused on what it is doing, limiting the opportunity for the judging mind to take the center stage. If we aren't being mindful of what we are doing, we are probably lost in thoughts, and oftentimes, those thoughts are negative and harmful. But we need to be careful, just because we are being mindful of the present moment, doesn't mean that that the judging mind isn't still there, chiming in in the background. That is why we always need to be keeping an eye out for these judgments while facing our aversions, because even though they aren't always prominent aspects of our experience, but they are still there, and we are still believing them.

By calling them out, we can choose to ignore them. We don't have to take them seriously. We can see them for what they are, and where they come from, and even though we might still agree with them on some level, we can see that they are only perpetuating our suffering by reinforcing our aversion.

On retreat, then, my practice became something like this. "Scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing, judgment arising, scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing, frustration arising." It's very simple, but it works. Over the days, I noticed that the judgments were becoming weaker, and my mindfulness of the scrubbing was becoming stronger. I dare say that at times, there were even moments when I found myself enjoying the process, seeing the service I was doing for myself and others, and the simple but gratifying task of moving my hand in circles to make something shiny and clean. When you take away all the mental baggage that surrounds aversion, you might find the bare sensations associated with the task aren't that bad. The mental proliferations are always worse that than the reality of the situation. When we don't notice the mental proliferations, they grow bigger and stronger and eventually, they take over. So what we need to do is keep watching and keep calling them out, and eventually, our minds will be come steady and we can focus on the task at hand, without making it any worse that it really is.

I might add that although I found some peaceful moments there, in doing my duty, I'm not out there looking for extra toilets to clean. On the next retreat I did, there was a similar sign-up system, but at that center, they came right out and indicated how often a yogi should be cleaning the bathrooms, once a week. I stayed for 8 days, and I signed up to clean once. The two things I wanted to avoid was flying way under the radar, and not addressing the responsibility, and having the attitude of just trying to get it over with. So I cleaned it once, and cleaned it well. I tried my best to stay present, and to keep an eye on my mind, waiting for judgments to arise. And they did, but this time, I had a much better attitude about the whole thing, and tried to connect with that sense of pride of taking care of my responsibilities. There is still plenty more work to do, but if I keep working like this, I can continue gaining more and more freedom from negative thought patterns and compulsive resistance to situations I don't like. Knowing that aversion is one of the main causes of suffering, I can rest assured it won't be a waste of my time.

So the next time you have to do something you really don't want to do, I invite you to try this practice. 1. Notice the aversion arise, and label it. 2. While performing the duty, try to stay mindful of the actual sensations of the actions. 3. Keep a watchful eye on the mental reactions, judgments, the internal complaints that make it worse than it has to be. 4. Enjoy the good feeling that you are facing your aversion and are on the path to purification, liberation, and lasting happiness.

Acceptance is the key to action: tuning in to God's Will

There seems to be a lot of weight out there in the spiritual world surrounding the word acceptance. It is used by almost every tradition and has become very popular, especially in this so called new-age spirituality. Now, don't get me wrong, I actually sort of like new age spirituality, as it tends to offer ancient wisdom in feel good packages that are more acceptable by those who lack a strong understanding or background in the more traditional paths, but because it pulls from so many sources, the true meanings are often distorted or even lost. It is perfectly okay to pull from different sources, but I feel it's important not to just skim off the top, only taking what sounds good, and not really having anything that we can put together into one cohesive understanding. There are plenty of token phrases floating around out there, but if we don't have anything that really grounds us in our practice, we too, will be floating around out there.

Concepts of letting go, surrendering, and acceptance are at the forefront of these types of spiritual catch phrases. "Surrender to God's will," is one that I've heard over the last couple days here in Rishikesh,  India, and it has got me thinking. How do I know what God's Will is? While I do believe in God in the sense of being the creative intelligence of the universe, I don't believe in a personalized form of some bearded guy out there somewhere, looking down on us, and controlling things. If there is a Divine Plan, aren't we all apart of it, isn't it happening as we speak? Do we need to wait for it to happen? Do we need to separate ourselves from it?

Let's take another one of these token phrases, that says we are one with everything in the universe, and use it to put this into perspective. If we are one with God, who is the one who needs to surrender? If there is one who is surrendering, and one who is God, that makes two, not one, so we need to be careful here. The problem with this trap is that it tends to lead to complacency, or inaction. If my spiritual practice is just to "get out of the way" so as to let the "Divine Will" flow through me, I've created a separation, and there is no longer just "one." What I mean to say, is that by doing this, I've made God out there somewhere and me sitting here, and therein lies the problem. That is exactly why I left Christianity, because I didn't believe that there was a God somewhere who existed separately as myself, and now I'm weary to fall back into another belief system, or ideology, that will leave the same result. Luckily, for me, I've come to adopt the Buddhist perspective, that simplifies things, but the Buddhist perspective doesn't account for all of my beliefs, so I want to take the opportunity to express exactly what those are in regards to divinity and acceptance.

Yes, there is a danger with the ideology that we should just accept things for the way they are, but this doesn't mean that we have to sit back and let atrocities in the world happen without standing up for ourselves, others, animals, and the planet, by taking action. The way I see it, is that acceptance is the key to action. First, we need to bear witness to the event, through the power of observaation. If we don't even know it is happening, if we are completely ignorant, we are powerless. In that respect, we need to open our eyes, and be aware of what is happening around us, and within us. This goes for everything from global crises to personal problems with anger or impatience.

The second step is to accept that what is happening, is in fact happening. This seems like it's not worth mentioning, but I know with myself, it's all too easy for me to slip into complacency because I pretend like I didn't see it. In other words, in those situations, I don't have the courage to admit, acknowledge, and accept what I have borne witness to, because if I accept it, I know I have to do something about it.

And the third step is action. If we don't see it, we are powerless. If we see it, but we don't accept that it is, in fact happening, or that it is, in fact a problem, we are powerless. We can look at all the denial surrounding the holocaust to see that if people don't accept what is happening, nothing will be done about it. If we bear witness and accept what we have witnessed, whether it be something seen, heard, thought, etc, then and only then are we empowered to act.

Acceptance doesn't have to be seen in terms of judgment. Too often, critics of acceptance think that by accepting something, you agree with it. This is not the case. Yes, it's just one way of looking at the word. We know that there are different meanings surrounding words, and we like to hold on to those meanings that are familiar or comfortable for us. But I will ask you to loosen your grip on your understanding of the word acceptance to understand what I'm saying. On the other hand, those who grip the word too strongly, also risk missing the point because they just want to write everything off as being God's Will or ultimately out of their hands.

Both of these viewpoints are extreme. There is no one controlling everything. Yes, I believe in Divinity, and I believe we are a part of that, so our actions can't be separated from God's, and neither can our will. We are God's plan, and everything we do is also. God knows himself through us. We are not separate from Him. Now, there is another way of looking at this, and it is a way of making the separation between the small self and the big self. The small self can be seen as the ego and the big self is part and parcel of God. With this view, we can see that it is the ego that needs to surrender, leaving God to do His work. But we must understand, it is still us that is doing the work. There is no one who is going to come in and show us what to do, there is nobody in the sky to impart this divine wisdom in us. We are it already! What we must do, is to purify ourselves from the defilements of the mind, that are products of the ego, such as greed, hatred, and delusion. When we chip away at the layers that cover up our innate divinity, God is all that remains. This is what the Buddha did when he became perfectly enlightened, but he spoke about it in different terms other than God, because he knew all the weight surrounding the sacred word, and that people would have a hard time letting go of their pre-conceived notions.

If you are practicing surrender, you need to ask yourself, who or what are you surrendering to? If it is not "you" who is in control, who is? Are you waiting for something from an external source? Do you believe that someone else has a plan for you? If so, there is a definite risk that you will fail to take the reigns in your life and be in charge of your own awakening.

No, we can't control everything, but this doesn't mean that we can't control anything. There are plenty of things we can control, and to think that something outside of us is controlling everything doesn't help us. Yes, there are certain forces at work, forces that are bigger than us, but that we are a part of. We can call these forces the Laws of the Universe, or dhamma (dharma in Sanskrit). As my intention here is to bridge a gap of misunderstanding, among different traditions, to find a common ground, I will offer a perspective that hopefully fulfills this and unifies the two theories.

Instead of thinking in terms of me and God, let's think in terms of our head and our heart. Surely, the little self, the ego, lives in the head, with desire, fear, etc. The bigger self, or God, lives in our heart. So instead of saying, "I need to get out of the way to allow Divinity to flow through me," we can say, "I need to center my intentions in my heart instead of my head." This way, we are not creating a separation here, and we are not relying on anything but ourselves to take control of our lives. Though we have this seeming duality here, between the ego and the heart, we need to remember that it is all us. Can we be big enough to accept that we are not only the perfection but also the imperfections?

If we can practice observation, acceptance, and action, we can bring about the changes we wish to see in the world. We need to have this confidence, that it is only us that is going to make the changes. There is no one else. Instead of thinking that some greater force is controlling things, we need to think in terms of aligning ourselves with this force. In order to do this, we need to find the source, which lies in the heart. From this place, the source of all love, creativity, and intelligence, we can rest assured that our actions are divine and that so are we. Now, of course we need to be careful to not take credit or personalize any achievements, understanding that there is no person here that is separate from the whole. As long as we do what we need to do, and give the credit to divinity, we run no risk of identifying with the small self and strengthening the ego.

As divine beings, nothing we do can not be divine, it can only differ in terms of being aligned with the source of love or the source of hate. Love comes from the heart and hate comes from the head. So as divine beings, we can tune-in to the divine channel, and align ourselves with God, simply by surrendering the will of the ego, and acting from the place of love in our hearts. But is it so simple? The ego is largely in control of us, how do we suddenly render it powerless?

Well, from this place is where the different traditions, techniques, and practices are born. There are different theories about how we can do this, how we can work to purify our minds and unite with our innate beauty and perfection. And it's a good thing, too, because within our unity, there is diversity, and we need to celebrate that diversity by honoring the different paths to purification. One way I seek to honor these different paths is to put them in terms that will allow me to find their common ground, to understand that two seemingly contradictory viewpoints can actually be pointing to the same thing. If we become too attached to language, we will fail to see the common ground between the traditions, and we will continue to live a life of separation. Can we dissolve our personal boundaries to the point that we can see that all the major religions and spiritual paths in the world are valid?

With this, I now feel compelled to mention that although I came to reject Christianity in my late teens, I have now see things differently. I refuse to see things in terms of black and white, and instead, I find that the essence of Christianity is the same as the essence of what I believe. If you take away all the dogma, all the fear-based teachings that try to get you to beleive, you are left with a message of unity and peace. That is the point. It doesn't matter what you call yourself, you can call yourself a Christian or an atheist, but if you are judging others, condemning others for being different, you are missing the point of life. The point of life is to connect with this infinite source of love within our hearts, call it Love, call it God, or don't call it anything, it only matters that you know it and have an intimate relationship with it. If you think you are nothing and It is everything, you've created an unnecessary separation, and will always be one step away from realizing your Divine Nature.

So the next time you are getting impatient, waiting for Divine Guidance that never comes, or are confused by who is supposed to surrender and who is supposed to make decisions, you can come back to this understanding, that it is all you, it is all God! Don't belittle yourself by thinking that God is above you, God is within you! You are God, we all are, and so is everything else in the Universe. If you start separating, you really risk losing the ability to stand up and act. The only separation to be made is whether or not you are connecting with the source within you, or if your actions are only to fulfill you own sense desires.

If you are still unsure, you can ask yourself a few questions, before you make a decision about how to act, or when analyzing where an action is coming from.

Who stands to gain from this action? Am I only trying to help myself or am I intending others to benefit as well? Do I have the best interest of others in mind? Will my actions hurt others, either directly or indirectly? If my main intention is to benefit myself from my action, can I see how this will later empower me to help others? Are there any negative impacts to the environment? Were there are any violations to human or animal rights involved in getting me what I want? Can I, after having assessed this action, consider this to be a wise, conscious, and responsible decision?

Do you see how easy it is to get our heads out of the clouds and start to see spirituality in a grounded, practical perspective? We have to rely on ourselves, our ability to discern, to observe cause and effect, and speculate about the possible consequences of our actions, to determine whether they are only serving us or whether they are aligned with God's Plan. Otherwise, we will never know what that plan is, and we will never know what part we play. We will always be looking for signs, waiting for signs, when the whole time, the signs are right there, in our own God-given abilities. We all have a role to play in this world, and that is only something that we can step up to take part in. It is up to us to find our way, and to do what we can to make the world a better place. We all have a purpose, but it's not already assigned to us, we have to sign up! So don't be afraid to take action in this world, don't be afraid to make choices that serve humanity as a whole and to stand up for what you know in your heart is right. Take the direction in life that you feel as being what is right for you. Take only inspiration from others, but trust that you are in control and that although you can't control everything, it is only through your own efforts, and with your own hands, that changes can be made. Don't wait for anything or anyone else, the time is now!

Knowing vs. Noting: A Retreat in Lumbini, Nepal

Over there in south central Nepal, is a place called Lumbini, where the Buddha was born, some 2,600 years ago. Since I'm on somewhat of a Yatra, a pilgrimage, and had already visited the 3/4 Buddhist Holy sites that are in India, I had to get up to Nepal to complete the circuit. In general, I'm not much of a traveler, even though I'm getting better at it. Rather, I prefer to spend most of my time posted up somewhere, in a place that I know I can get to work, chipping away at the many, many, many mental defilements that get in the way between "me" and freedom. The best practice I have found to do this work is mindfulness, but in the world of mindfulness, there are many techniques.

When I learned that the Burmese meditation teacher, Sayadaw U'Pandita, had a meditation center in Lumbini, I quickly changed my plans and headed north from Sarnath, where there were some western Dhamma teachers leading a non-residential retreat. Although the Dharma Gathering, as it's called, seemed like a really great thing, and there were a lot of cool people there, I yearned to get back to silence, where the real work can get done. When you mix too much talking with meditation, it's hard to keep a continuity of mindfulness, which I am learning is ever so important. At the gathering, it seemed like a lot of socializing, and don't get me wrong, I love to talk about meditation, but what I love even more is practicing meditation. Some people, unfortunately, are the other way around.

I first heard about U'Pandita at a retreat in Colorado I did in 2011, with Steve Armstrong and Kamala Masters, both of whom are dedicated students. After they first mentioned him, I became more and more acquainted with the name, and another one that went along with it, Mahasi Sayadaw. As you may remember from a previous post, I sat for 9 days at the Mahasi center in Burma last November, and had a difficult time. Sayadaw U'Pandita is a chief disciple of the late Mahasi, and is considered one of the greatest living masters of meditation in the world, especially in the Therevada Buddhist tradition. A friend of mine from Colorado, just sat the annual 60-day retreat that U'Pandita leads in Burma, and had also heard good things about the center in Lumbini.

This particular center, the Panditarama International Vipassana Meditation Center, is operated under the guidance of one of U'Pandita's disciples, a German monk, Sayadaw U'Vivekenanda. One of the reasons I had such a difficult time at the Mahasi Center in Burma was that the Sayadaw (teacher) there didn't speak much English and frankly, neither did the younger monk translating for him. I already had invested a total of 30 days in this practice, known as the Mahasi Method, and still had unanswered questions. Before writing it off completely, which I was tempted to do, I wanted to get a chance to ask an experienced teacher in the tradition, who could speak fluent English, the question I was dying to ask.

So that brings me to my point, what is the difference between knowing and noting? The Mahasi Method is known for being a very strict and disciplined way of practicing mindfulness of the present moment by using noting or mental labeling to identify what is happening. Since I had first learned this technique from western teachers, who are no doubt less-strict, I had already gotten comfortable with a practice that allowed me to note some things, and just stay present, or "know," others. For example, I could practice staying with the experience of breathing without using noting, just by bringing my attention to the natural breath, and return it to the breath when the mind would wander. Then, when a particular curve-ball would be thrown my way, like pain in the body, or incessant thinking, I could then choose to use a label, noting, "pain arising," or "thinking mind."

While I had grown to like this practice, which sort of allowed me a lot of freedom in regards to what to note and when, I had come to find that the original teachings were much different. In one way, that's one of the problems with us Americans, is that we like to have the illusion of freedom, at the price potentially finding true, lasting freedom. The Burmese, on the other hand, don't have this problem. Buddhism is in their blood, and they seem more than willing to do what it takes to find that freedom from suffering. The Mahasi Method, as taught in Burma, is quite strict about noting everything, and the western Dhamma teachers, even the students of Mahasi/U'Pandita, are not. I'd be willing to guess that they are less strict because of their students, not because they aren't taking it seriously. Either that, or they have genuinely understood that a less-strict approach is better for the western mindset, which very well may be true. If it is, I am determined to find out on my own. As a serious student of the Dhamma, it leaves me in a difficult situation. What should I do? Should I note everything, or keep it more relaxed, American style?

Okay, well, I seem inclined to try to get things right, especially when it comes to meditation, but in my previous ventures with the Mahasi Method in Burma and Thailand, I sometimes got to a state where I felt like I knew what was happening, and the noting just dropped away naturally. When I asked the teachers if I needed to continue noting at that point, they all said the same thing, yes!

At the Panditarama Lumbini center, I finally got the answer that I was looking for, but it didn't come from Sayadaw U'Vivkenanda, it came from the resident nun, Sayalay Bhadda Manika. I realize that this article is quite boring and you might think pointless, but stay with me here, this is important for those of us trying to understand what the Buddha meant when he said, "In the knowing, there is just the knowing." Sayalay told me, "Find the balance between using labels and simple awareness." That's it right there! That was the answer I had been looking for, but let me get into what I think she meant by that, for sake of clarity.

This method is not primarily about using mental labels, it is about being with the direct experience on a moment-to-moment basis. One reason it is so powerful is that it transcends the meditation cushion, and can be practiced all day, everyday, in anything we do. This is also what separates it from some other Vipassana methods, such as those taught all over the world at the 10-day Goenka courses. When I think about awareness, I think about mindfulness, the practice of being aware of whatever is happening. Now, to me, this is different than being aware of something very specific, and tuning everything else out. Let me explain.

With the Goenka courses, the technique is to scan the body, head to toe, in order to feel the gross and subtle sensations that exist in the body. While yes, these sensations are already there before we started scanning, they aren't necessarily prevalent to our experience, and the whole thing is very prescribed. It doesn't help us deal with curve-balls. Also, it can't really be practiced off the cushion, say, while we are driving or at work. In that way, it's not really a practice of being mindful of whatever the present moment has to offer, it's a practice of tuning in to only one particular aspect of the present moment.

The Mahasi Method, on the other hand, helps us to identify whatever the present moment includes, which is in a state of constant flux. While it does use the rise and fall of the abdomen as the primary object of mindfulness, it allows any predominate object, anything that takes the center stage in our awareness, to be addressed. I use it whenever I can remember, while working, walking, talking, breathing, eating, taking a shower, etc. It can not only be used during activities, but during every waking second of the day. If practiced while falling asleep, one can even wake up and find that it is still happening. On this last retreat, one night, I remember waking up to "roll over" several times during the night, and the mindfulness was there, the practice was still there, because of the continuity that I had built up throughout the day.

So if you ask me if Salayay gave me permission to just casually use labeling when and where I feel like it, I'd have to say no. What I believe she meant is that I shouldn't grab ahold of the directions, to identify what is happening by making a mental label of it, and allow the practice to make me lose the balance of my mind. With my disposition, I have the tendency to bring this intensity that tells me I have to get it right, and my mind becomes uneasy. Instead of just giving in to a completely relaxed version of the practice, what she wanted me to do was to play around with this idea of knowing vs. noting.

One of the main criticisms for this method is that people say that instead of actually being with the direct experience, they are just mindful of the process of nothing. That means, instead of feeling the particular sensations of the moment, they are just slapping a label on it and not really investigating further. So in regards to this, when there is noting, is there always knowing? Certainly not, if one is too lax in their practice, they can go on noting the rising and falling of the abdomen, but they are missing out on the actual experience of the abdomen rising and falling. And if there is no noting, is there always knowing? Definitely not, we go through most of our lives not knowing much about the present moment, always stuck in the past or the future.

As far as the difference between knowing and noting, my process of discovery continues, but I'm glad I made the trip to Lumbini to sit for 8 days in earnest practice. I kept to the noting quite strictly, but at times, when I thought knowing was happening, I played around with dropping the noting. Here is another question I have now, when there is knowing, is there noting? What I mean by that is the use of language to decipher what we experience is so ingrained that we almost process our experience by naturally using labels.

These types of labels are very subtle, and are not necessarily at the forefront of our experience, but they are there, nonetheless. Let me use an example. Your phone rings, and you can hear it, but you don't know exactly where your phone is. Somewhere within your mind, at some level, are you not saying to yourself, "Phone, where is my phone?" Sometimes, we are so mindless of this process, that we even say these things out loud, even when we are alone. I know I have been guilty of verbalizing a running commentary of my experience before, and so have many others. This is actually quite a bit like the Mahasi Method. This internal commentary actually helps us to stay focused on what we are doing, or what is happening. WIthout it, we are more likely to have our attention diverted to one of the many distractions that are presenting themselves to us all the time. And then, we have the familiar experience of saying to ourselves, "Now, what was I just doing?"

So when it comes to practicing mindfulness, the important thing is that we are in the present moment, not whether or not we are using labels. Using labels is just one technique, and we should never get technique confused with the goal. So what is the goal? The goal is to purify the mind of its defilements by learning how the mind works through moment-to-moment observation and investigation. If we know how the mind works, we know what pitfalls to avoid, and we know how to turn around when we are headed for a dead-end. We can learn to catch impulses to react in unskillful ways, ways that hurt ourselves and others around us. We can learn to identify unwholesome states of mind, such as greed, hatred, and delusion, and replace them with wholesome states of mind such as generosity, loving-kindness, and intuitive knowledge. We can bring about peace in our minds, to reduce stress, increase happiness, and live in harmony with ourselves and our environment. And mindfulness is central to all of these wonderful changes. As Tich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Zen-Buddhist monk, said, "Mindfulness is the core of Buddhist practice."

If you are thinking that your life is fine, that you don't need to practice mindfulness, then I have a few questions to ask you. First of all, don't take this personally, we all need to practice mindfulness if we want to be free. It's not something that some are born with and others aren't, so you don't have to try to trick yourself by saying, "I'm not one of those people that need to be doing this." Instead, ask yourself these questions, and be honest with yourself.

Do you ever say or do something that ends up hurting yourself or others, that you later regret doing?

Do you ever forget your car keys,  forget where you put something, forget to bring something to school or work, forget to call someone back, or forget to turn the light off before you leave the room?

Have you ever dropped a glass, almost gone off the road while driving, or forgotten what you were going to say while talking to someone?

Have you ever stubbed your toe? Or better yet, have you ever stepped on dog crap?

Have you ever beat yourself up for stubbing your toe, dropping a glass that shatters on the floor, or locking your keys in the car?

Have you ever burned something that you were cooking?

Okay, okay, I'll stop there, but you and I both know I could keep going, and we both know that we have all done these things. We do these things because we aren't being mindful, it's that simple. Did the leg of that table jump out at you at the last second and cause you to stub your toe? No, you just weren't paying attention to what you were doing. We have our excuses, and they are pretty valid too, because we all know what it's like.

"I just wasn't paying attention."
"It just slipped out of my mouth, I didn't mean it."
"It must have slipped my mind."

There's nothing wrong with being human, and making these common mistakes, but if you are like me, you'd rather replace clumsiness, forgetfulness, and reactivity with "being on top of it." If this sounds good to you, maybe you too, will play around with this idea of knowing vs. noting. If you aren't positive that knowing is happening, in any given moment, try using a label, and keep track of what's happening (opening the door, standing up, sitting down, chewing, looking for keys, etc.). The worst that could happen is that you'll have to find another excuse for why you didn't call your friend back or why your food doesn't taste good. Good luck!


To find out more about Panditarama Lumbini, which is open year-round for personal retreats of 7 days to 3 months, and operates entirely on donations, visit:

 http://www.panditarama-lumbini.info

Burning Bodies and Street Dogs in Varanasi

After the Kumbh Mela, I stopped in Varanasi for a night, knowing that my schedule was getting tight and I'd better check it out while I had the chance. Specifically, I was looking to get down to the ghats, where Hindus come everyday to bathe in the river, wash their clothes, and yes, burn their dead. At the meditation retreat I did in Bodhgaya, the teacher, Christopher Titmuss, told about how his teacher made him watch dead bodies being burned on open fires when he was a monk back in the early 70's in southern Thailand. I felt very moved by this exposure to death, something were are very sheltered from in the west. Yes, we often have open caskets at funerals, but the bodies have been prepared to be on display, and it lacks the real feeling of death. I remember seeing a couple of bodies like this as a kid, and although it was somewhat unsettling, it just looked like the person was sleeping.

If I was going to do one thing while I was in Varanasi, it was going to be watching some bodies burn, but first, I needed to find a room somewhere. While looking, I slipped into an alley near the main ghat, which are like stone stairways that lead down the river, and got sort of lost before running into a Korean friend from earlier in my trip, making it the 3rd person from Sadhana Forest that I saw in 2 days. That is one thing interesting about traveling, even in a huge country like India with over 1 billion people, chances are, you'll see some of the same travelers, if you are here long enough.

The alley system in Varanasi is very interesting and somewhat overwhelming. The tiny streets are probably only 5' wide and can be packed with pedestrians, cattle, motorcycles, and street dogs. One thing about street dogs in high traffic areas like this is that they pay little attention to people. They only get territorial with other dogs, so sometimes you see them fighting amongst each other. Another thing you'll see on these streets, and apparently everywhere in India, is guys stopping to take a piss right in front of everyone, sometimes not even shielded from plain view. Between that and animal feces, it's a good opportunity to practice mindful walking.

I finally found a decent place for a cheap room, and met some nice people that were around my same age. On previous trips, sometimes I don't really meet anyone that I connect with, but on this trip, I've met a lot of really cool people. I shared a rickshaw into the downtown area again, as my journey through the alleys left me pretty far down the river near Assi Ghat, which proved to be a more peaceful area, and got some dinner before heading out to find the "burning ghat." It turned out that there are at least 2, and I had to go even farther from home to find the main one. By the time I got there, it was probably already 10pm. The general lack of lighting near this ghat and the relatively late time in the evening made my entrance somewhat sketchy, but by this point, I don't really get scared, at least with people. I know that fear will make me a target, like it does with street dogs, so I do my best to avoid it. Besides, most Indians don't seem like the type to be dangerous. Some may try to sell you something, others may try to con some money out of you, but I haven't come across any that were downright scary.

The scene was nonetheless quite dark and somber. There were a number of fires going, probably 5 or 6, and they were being tended to by young men who were obviously on the job. I guess I expected there to be some sort of ceremony, people gathered around the body, pre-burn, to chant something or offer flowers, but it seemed to operate more like a body burning factory, one after the other. The bodies were coming down on handmade stretchers, and were wrapped in some sort of white cloth. I also expected them to have huge fires, that would engulf the body in a matter of minutes, but I was completely wrong.

The fires were relatively small, and they'd set the body on some logs a few feet from the flames. Then, stuffing more wood under the raised body, they'd eventually get the fire to expand. Finally, they'd pile even more wood on top of the body, to sort of get the flames to surround the corpse. I was beginning to think that I wasn't going to get to see much of a body burning. While I had my attention fixed on one precession down below me, about 40' away, I was also keeping my eye on a closer fire to my left, about 20' away. I thought the fire below would be bigger, and when the baffled workers failed to really get the thing going, I gave up and watched the one closest to me. All of a sudden, the cloth had burned up at one end, leaving the bare feet and ankles exposed in plain view. I flinched a bit, and for the first time, what I had been watching became real.

Not knowing what to do, if I should stay or go, I just kept watching, unable to remove my gaze from the approximate size 10, fair skinned feet that were shining under the full moon. I've seen a lot of disgusting feet in this country, on account of diseases, lack of footwear, lack of hygiene/personal care, and the first thing I noticed about this guys feet was, "Damn, this dude had some nice looking feet!" The next thing I thought was, "What's going to happen to them?" I was curious, how does a body burn, and transform, especially in a fire this small. Well, I didn't see the whole corpse burn, but I did watch the whole process of these feet being slow-roasted. The color became darker and darker until liquid began to drip from the bottom of the heel. It was as if it was a wax foot in front of a heater, slowly melting. The shape of the foot also began to morph, losing it's life-like appearance and moving closer to being in skeletal form.

After about an hour of this, with the feet growing increasingly more and more morbid, I was just waiting for some sort of closure, and finally, I got it. The left foot began to rotate inward, and I knew that the fire was chewing its way through the leg bone and it was just  a matter of time. Another 15 minutes, and I finally got to see the feet, right above the ankles, fall to the ground. The kid who was stoking the fire took notice of this, though rather unemotionally, and proceeded to use a long stick to shove one foot into the coals. The other foot, on the other hand (can I say 'on the other foot' instead?), he had different plans for. He took this long stick, and as if playing a sport, tried to fling the foot to the top of the fire. On his 3rd try, perfect shot (not sure how many points for that?). Watching the last of the foot burn, toes still pointed to the night sky, was my closure, and I knew I had gotten what I came for.

I think acknowledging death is an important thing for everyone, especially those from western cultures that have tried to create so much of an illusion around it. In the east, the body is never thought to be the person. The person just uses the body and then is reborn into another one in the next life. Once the body passes through the body, it's just a corpse, and they don't see it as something so shocking. I doubt I'll ever forget the image I have in my mind of the melting foot, and for that I am grateful. In the past few years, I feel like I've gotten over my fear of death to an extent, but this experience showed me that I still have work to do.

The Buddha prescribed many different meditations that involve visualizing your body as a rotting corpse, etc, and also recommended to practice in graveyards and charnel grounds. This practice is believed to help one come to terms with the fact that they must surely die and to see it as a natural part of the process of life. The purpose of this is not to become pessimistic, but on the contrary, to see that one must use one's time wisely and make the most out of it while one has it. Do we get sad when we see a vase of fresh roses? No, we enjoy them while we can, knowing that in a short time, they will be gone. In the same way, we can see our life as something precious and fragile, and acquainting ourselves with the reality of death is one way of facing any aversion or fear we may have of it.

Okay, enough about death. On the way home, I got lost, on account of forgetting my guest house name, and ended up trying to navigate the dark empty streets at around midnight. I was pretty sure I knew I needed to go a specific way, and although the road was full of street dogs, I proceeded without much caution. It was when I got really close, and sort of saw how they were staring me down, that I was suddenly startled and became fearful. Of course, this is exactly the green-light on the attack that they were looking for. At the point when I set off the signal, I was trying to squeeze past one of them to slip into a side road, but as soon as they started barking, I retreated. I have been in many street dog situations in Thailand and one particular one in Laos that ended in me fighting of two dogs with a car tire, but this time, there were 7 or 8 dogs and I knew my chances for a victory were slim. Sometimes, I use intimidation, sometimes, I flee the scene. This time, I had no plan, I was just freaking out. As a general rule of thumb, if you run, they will chase you.

I knew this, but seriously, being only a few feet away, what else was I to do? So I kinda ran but didn't turn my back on them, and began frantically waving the half-full (or does half-empty better explain this one?) plastic water bottle around to scare them. It wasn't working though, and they were coming at me barking and leaping toward me to bite. As I backpedaled, I was yelling ,"Hey, hey, hey!" louder and louder, until at full volume. I remember having the thought, "Well, I'm probably going to lose this one, but I'm taking at least one of these mother f'ers down with me." They were starting to get smart and flank me from the sides, but there was one in particular, a white one, that appeared to be their leader, and was surely the biggest, and closest. He came right down the middle for a full-on bite, and I swung that bottle as hard as I could and smashed it into the side of his face when he was just a few inches from biting my leg. It was a good thing too, because that was a do-or-die situation. Had I missed that blow, it could have been a feeding frenzy. The white dog squealed and pulled back, and the rest followed his lead. They weren't done though, just regrouping to feel me out. My next move was to take a few steps toward them, which I probably should have done in the first place. I puffed up my chest and made myself big and kept waving the bottle. At that point, I remember wondering how long until they figured out that my bottle was a really weak weapon.

Just then, a young Indian man, who I had passed on the street several minutes before, ran up behind me and threw a handful of rocks into the pack of angry dogs. They backed off even more, and he grabbed me and pulled me out of there. They were still barking like crazy, and sort of following us as a continued threat, so I just kept turning around to show them that I was ready to fight if necessary.  I guess the guy heard me yelling and came to the rescue, but he didn't speak English, so I  I'll never really know. Either way, that was easily one of the scariest moments of my life, and I intend to carry better weapons when navigating dark roads at night. Eventually, I want to get to the point where I am no longer scared of them, or at least able to refrain from showing fear, but if these things keep happening to me, it may be hard to get there.

Death and dogs are two areas I need to work through, and I feel like I made major progress with death, so I'll shift my focus to dealing with dogs. Sometimes, I can just laugh or smile and make angry dogs more relaxed, but my lack of confidence in this means that it doesn't work every time. I try to imagine, what would Jesus, or the Buddha do? Did they get attacked by crazy street dogs, or were they so chilled out that no animals saw them as a threat. It's an interesting place to become curious about, this relationship between humans and animals. If dogs are territorial, and you cross their path at night, chances are, they will try to attack. So what can we do? Well, two nights ago, I found a temporary solution, and hopped in an auto-rickshaw. But it's only a matter of time before my next encounter. What it's going to take to walk out unscathed is either a heart full of love and not a drop of fear, or a really big weapon. I'll keep you posted on which one it is.

Maha Kumbh Mela: The Largest Gathering on Earth

The Maha Kumbh Mela happens once every 12 years, and just happenend to fall during my first trip to India. Based around bathing in the Ganges River, the event attracts somewhere between 50 and 80 million people and lasts for nearly 2 months (people are coming and leaving throughout this period). Pilgrims from all over come to cleanse their past karma by taking a dip in the holy river on certain auspicious days, known as bathing days. On February 10th, the main bathing day, it is estimated that as many as 30 million people took the holy dip, which may have been the most people gathered in one day in history. One main aspect of the gathering is the various camps set up by different gurus and spiritual organizations. Just about every major guru from India is represented, either by devotees or in person, and so walking through the streets is like an expose of all the different teachers and teachings. This aspect of Hinduism is quite overwhelming, especially as an outsider, because oftentimes, there might only be a small piece of common ground that they can find between themselves to agree upon. The congregation is so vast that it can be seen from outer space.

When I bought my ticket to India, sometime last August or September, I knew I wanted to stop by the gathering, just to see it, and so I left my stuff at the Tibetan Monastery where I stayed in Sarnath, packed a light bag, and hit the road. Let me just take this opportunity to say that the train situation in India is really out of control sometimes and it's not always something you can count on. Figuring it would be the easiest way, I walked to the station in Sarnath and bought a 55 rupee ($1) ticket for Allahabad, where the Kumbh Mela was taking place. The train was about an hour late, and when it arrived, the thing was bursting at the seams with people. Every car was overflowing, to the point were the guys in the doorways had to practically hang out the opening the entire time.

Sure, some people managed to squeeze themselves in, it sort of depended on where you were standing. Knowing the train would only stop for a few minutes, I ran up to the different doorways and tried my best to push through, but it was impossible, especially since the young men guarding the doors refused to let me in. Even the thought of making it on was unsettling, and after having ridden in general class overnight from Kolkatta to Bodhgaya, standing the entire way with 10 people crammed into the nook in front of the bathrooms, I wasn't keen on reliving the nightmare.

Fairly discouraged about having wasted so much time, I walked back into town and caught an auto-rickshaw to the bus station in Varanasi and then a bus to Allahabad, each for a hundred rupees. The bus couldn't make it into town, the last stretch of road leading up was blocked to most traffic and the buses were at a standstill, so everyone got off and I started walking. I walked for several kilometers before deciding to have another auto-rickshaw take me the rest of the way, at least to the entrance of the giant plain that was filled with streets and tents, and millions of people.

It took me another couple of hours of walking to find the Rainbow Gathering camp, where I spent the night curled up on the ground with a thin blanket and plenty of chills. I woke up yesterday, knowing that if I stayed another night there, I'd get sick, so I walked around long enough to see most of the spectacle, took some photos, and then headed back to Varanasi. I would be willing to guess that from the time the bus dropped me off to the time when I found another bus back to Varanasi, I put in around 15 miles by foot. I ended up running into a couple of friends there that I met at Sadhana Forest down south, so it was really nice to see some familiar faces. The rainbow camp was was on the outskirts of the gathering and a pretty basic set-up, with about 40-50 young people from various western countries coming together in the evenings to drink chai, play the guitar, and share experiences from the day. Besides it being a nice refuge for a weary westerner at the Mela, it wasn't anything I wanted to stick around for.

Although I don't consider myself a Hindu, I enjoy many of the yogic practices that come from the vedas and could be considered to be a part of Hinduism. Buddhism was something of an offshoot of Hinduism, as the Buddha himself was a Hindu, but rejected the idea that only certain classes were allowed access to the divine, through the Brahmins. Instead, he gave everyone the key to finding liberation, and pointed us in the right direction, within. When you take away all the different gods and rituals of Hinduism, the basic message is the same, purify the mind through concentration and meritorious deeds and one will be free from the bondage of desire and aversion. The main difference, that I can see, is the use of language to convey truths. Since we know that language can never be truth, but only point to it, we may allow ourselves to not take the choice of language too seriously and instead, try to connect with that which is being pointed to.

In Hinduism, once the mind is purified, the natural state of divinity shines through. God is seen as residing in everyone and everything, so in order to see that, we need to stop identifying with the small self, or the ego. In Buddhism, descriptions of gods and divinity aren't essential to the teachings. When the Buddha was asked about such things, he would say that it didn't matter, that it shouldn't effect one's efforts toward liberation. He feared, for good reason, that when these celestial matters were spelled out, religion turns to ritual and one no longer sees the need to practice, and only resorts to worship.

In Buddhism, today, there is also worship happening, and many people would rather pay respect to the Buddha by offerings and rituals than by following his teachings. These things can be seen as being cultural implementations around the religion, which is otherwise not much of a religion at all. Either way, I will continue to explore the differences and similarities between Hinduism and Buddhism in hopes to further connect myself, as a Buddhist, to the non-Buddhist world. I also intend to connect the many dots that exist between Buddhism and Christianity, and work toward developing a unifying perspective on the world's religions.

From my own experience, the more I back myself into a corner with my beliefs, the worse I feel. It can be easy to identify with one's own views, and then separate oneself from others who don't share it. The point of all the religions can be seen to be some form of love, so it doesn't make sense to create boundaries that lead to judgment, hatred, and intolerance. No, I don't think that there should be one path or practice for the whole world, we need to celebrate our diversity. But within our different paths, we would do well to discover our unity and to find respect, compassion, and appreciation for one another and our different views.

With this spirit, I wanted to get a taste for a massive Hindu gathering, such as the Mela, and find this connection with those who seem, on the outside, to be of a different world. What I found, besides lots of color, red dots on foreheads, naked saddhus and wandering ascetics, was that these all were just people. That basic human to human connection is possible regardless of language, cultural, or religious differences. One of the most difficult things is to see some of the beggars, lining the main street, lying out in the sun, many lepers with missing limbs, crying and screaming in agony and misery, and shaking to the point of near convulsion. To see these people, often young people, in such horrible states of suffering is shocking. The reaction is to reject these people, as being sub-human, some sort of mutant freaks. The practice, therefore, is to see them as equals, as humans who were dealt a hand that just makes you sick to think about. Can we see these people as reflections of that same divinity we know is within us? Can we learn to be compassionate and loving, even in the face of something so ugly and frightening?

Sometimes, where we are is different from where we want to be, so the first step is to have a vision and then what follows is continual practice. We are all conditioned to react and behave in certain ways, there is no reason to feel bad about this or to blame anyone. Instead, we can hold a vision for a unity between ourselves and others, even if those others seem to be so different from ourselves. It's going to take practice, but I have trust that I will dissolve these boundaries and be able to truly acknowledge every form of human life as being equally valuable.