Nothing changes

In one of my Buddhist books, the author quotes a story of a group of monks who are mourning the impending loss of their Abbot. He looks up that them and smiles. "Nothing changes."

It occurred to me that this story relates to something I heard on Science Friday the other day. In an interview with Ira Flato, Roger Penrose, the famous mathematician, who has written a book about the history and state of physics today called, "The Road to Reality: A Complete Guide to the Laws of the Universe,"(NY Times Review - http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/27/books/review/27JOHNSON.html?)was describing Schrodinger's famous thought experiment of the dead/live cat in the box. What occurred to me at that moment is an idea that maybe we have been barking up the wrong tree (sorry for the pun) - maybe the Buddhist view is really the perfect description of the universe. Maybe nothing changes - in other words, maybe the concepts of "dead" or "alive" are wrong. Maybe there is no "dead" or "alive?" Maybe it is our perception that is flawed and that if we just understood that nothing changes, we would understand that there is no state of being dead or alive. It is only our perception that tricks us into thinking that there are states of being dead or alive.

I don't know why I thought of this at the moment, but when I was listening to Mr. Penrose talk, I just couldn't help but think that somehow scientists with their great minds are still looking at things that way they always have, and for all intents and purposes, they are still finding the same kinds of answers- but never really move into the realm of really understanding the universe. I don't understand the universe either, but I don't think it can be found purely in this dimension or perhaps a better way to say it, is that it cannot be found entirely through our minds. It is the place of no mind that holds the key.

Somehow I am beginning to believe that our minds are getting in the way of understanding the universe.

Just a theory and I'm sticking to it - for now.

Connection

I've been thinking about connection a lot lately and about the idea that when you die, nothing changes.

Connection to people - other people. Sometimes I think that some people have connections to other people and some people don't. I have this funny idea that somehow when a child is young that if they do not make the proper connections with parents and siblings, they just stay unconnected to people for the rest of their lives. It's as though there is an invisible cord that never gets attached to anyone else and you remain disconnected in a very subtle, but tangible way from everyone and everything else on the planet. I wonder about that that might be a blessing in disguise, however.

I have been reading "A Meditator's Diary" again. In one section, the author talks about the Abbot of the monastery where she is staying, as having compassionate detachment. I wonder if this is just compassionate detachment. I don't really foster any ill-will towards anyone. I simply do not connect with people the same way that others seem to. I don't seem to be affected that much by others or what they have to say. On the other hand, perhaps that is not the exact truth, now that I think about it.

Let's see - what happens. When someone does/says something that bugs me, I tend to shut down and just avoid them - disengage. I just drop my connection with them. It's as though when you have a connection with someone, you each hold the end of the wire, ( I've gone wireless, but for the sake of argument, let's assume there is a wire.) but at some point, I just drop my end of the connection. I don't give a lot of warning, I just drop it and totally disengage.

I guess I don't see any relationship as being THAT important to me that I would keep trying to hold on to the cord anymore. When things get tough, I let go. Interesting. I was told many years ago that I seem to take the easy way out. Is this just the easy way out or is this the detachment that the Buddhists speak of? Hard to tell. I suppose because I am questioning it, perhaps it is not detachment but avoidance.

Ummm.... I'll have to think on this one little more.

Sometimes there just isn't anything to say

I'm having a dry spell when it comes to writing these days.

I was up in Nelson, B. C. for the last couple of days ( one of the nicer places on the planet) and at Ainsworth Hot Springs (also one of the nicer places on the planet) to take some time out to soak in the hotwater and eat some really good food. Nelson has some really outstanding restaurants. I particularly like The Preserved Seed. I don't know what organization runs this restaurant but the food is outstanding and the atmosphere is very nice, indeed. It's a wonderfully warm and engaging atmosphere. Nice music - quiet enough to talk over but loud enough to provide something during the lulls in conversation.

The weather was really very nice, too. Clear as a bell. The hotsprings weren't crowded because it was between Valentine's Day and President's Day holidays. I like to go to Ainsworth when it's not too crowded. It's much easier to float around when there are fewer people.

Other than that, it's been pretty boring. I'm not really doing anything that sparks my interest right now. I seem to be in the mind-winter lull. I don't seem to want to start anything these days.

I'm not motivated to be active doing anything - maybe I'm hibernating and don't know it? Could be. Who knows?.... and all that jazz.

Working hard or hardly working?

I keep thinking that I'm working hard but the truth of the matter is that I am hardly working. I am not very efficient these days. I'm mostly spending time just horsing around and watching how I cling to thinking that I should be accomplishing something, but I'm not. Suffering is clinging, as the Buddhists say. Clinging to anything. Any attachment to anything. But how can I let go of everything? I guess that's the trick, all right.

I've decided that for 50 years I have been too serious. Everything is serious - this - serious that. What's funny about that is that I have a fairly good sense of humor but lately I think I've been depressed or something because I just can't shake this feeling of gloom and doom. Perhaps it's the election, perhaps it's the change of life, perhaps it's the "City Slickers" syndrome, as I call it - knowing that at some point in your life, you're the best you are ever going to be, you look the best you are ever going to look, and you are pretty much settled into whatever job you are ever going to have. That's it - in a nutshell. This is about as good as it gets and that's somewhat depressing in my view.

Anyway, I am starting to think that the gloom and doom is probably a waste of time. Why not just have fun with all of it? I mean, we're all dead in the end so why not enjoy the ride? It's hard to do that sometimes because my damn EGO gets in the way and mucks things up a lot of the time. I have this theory that sometimes we are actors on the stage (which means you don't see anything including most of what it currently going on) and sometimes you are the director sitting in the audience watching yourself as you interact with the people in your life while on the stage, and then there are times when you are in "meta" position where you can watch yourself watching yourself while you are on the stage. How many times do I see myself later and know that while I was on stage, I was totally unreasonable, grouchy, and generally just plain ornery? Can I catch myself while I am on stage being that way? Not often. So, life seems to be a series of moments of unconsciousness linked together by moments of consciousness. I don't know why that means I life should be funny and I should enjoy the ride particularly. I've discovered that most things are not that important in the long haul, so why get all hot and bothered about them now?

If it's funny later, it's funny now.

I hope I can remember that the next time some damn thumper drives by and disturbs the peace.

Could it really be that silence and noise are the same thing?

Nothing new to report

I've been continuing my reading and sitting. Nothing new to report. I can see how clinging makes life pretty miserable, however. Clinging to anything; having any beliefs at all make life miserable. "Believe nothing" was the slogan at the monastery and now I can see the point. Every thought I have that is associated with judgment makes for difficulty.

Watched several movies over the last few days. Nothing that good or inspirational. I'll have to get something more at the library for the weekend. I'm not reading as much as I used to now that I can get movies at the library. It's kind of a shame, actually, that I can watch movies so easily because I much prefer that to reading. Reading is tiring and takes a long time. Watching movies really challenges all of the senses - maybe assaults all of the senses is a better way of putting it, and for that reason, I much prefer movies. I don't mind books if they are written in a way that is very descriptive. I have a good imagination, so that's not the problem. I guess I'm getting lazy in my old age. I want someone to show me the pictures instead of me having to make them up.

And I complain about kids not having enough time to make up their own stories - a little like calling the kettle black?

I have something else to write about these days but I can't do it tonight. I am having trouble figuring out what has happened to a relationship I have had with someone. I need some time to think about what happened and to figure out what I want to do about it. More later...

Experiencing; Not reading

I finished the "Meditator's Diary" this morning and realized that I am one of "those" people who spend more time reading than experiencing. Even now, I am telling myself that I need to go sit and I resist. I don't know why I resist to wholeheartedly, but I totally resist sitting. So, I get to watch what I do and see how this happens for me.

I am jumpy today. I float from one thing to another and never really do anything. I just jump around. I started to watch a movie this morning called "Kippur" and fell asleep. I was bored with the whole thing. Hard to be bored watching a war, but the whole thing moved so slowly that I just fell asleep.

I've just spent some time online looking up the author of the Meditator's Diary. I am amazed. She has written another book about the Hmong people that I must read now that I know something of her background.

It's time to go and sit.

Just do it.

More of the same

I've been reading this really interesting book lately."Zen: It's Not What You Think." Kind of a nice play on words. I like that.

Anyway, one of the most interesting things to me is the discussion of the old koan, one hand clapping. It never occurred to me that the sound of one hand clapping is the same as two hands clapping, as 10 hands clapping. I know that this is not a discussion for the intellect. It is a different kind of knowing about existence. It is about knowing that when a person dies, as the old Zen master said, nothing changes. That's the remarkable part of all of this. Nothing changes. Everything changes all the time but nothing changes. That is the paradox.

When I contemplate this, I realize that everything is important and nothing is important. And that is dichotomy. Everything and nothing. All at the same time. Get it?

So, how does this translate into life? Well, it's all about right now. My meditation now has expanded to every minute of the day. Breathing in - breathing out - being present. That's all there really is to life. Don't you see? For a nanosecond, I am that. And then I slip back into being and it's all lost, or not.

Interesting.

Stuff.