So I'm rotating through Neurology. Back on a "real" medicine service. Back to the ED and NSICU. Back to ventilators and monitors and tubes of all sorts sticking into various orifices, both naturally occurring and man made. I am definitely out of my element. I have loads of respect for the docs and the nurses who can run this show but it's not my bag. But whenever I'm around the whole "life/death" scene, it gets the wheels to turning....
So yesterday morning, my team goes down neurosurgical intensive care unit to see a couple of folks. (BTW, I know more about bullfighting than I do neurosurgery but anyway...) First we saw a 23 year male one week out from a gunshot wound to the head. He's basically brain dead on a vent. Then we saw an 85 year woman, chronic alcoholic, in and out of status epilepticus since the evacuation of her subdural hematoma a few days earlier. (On 4 antiepileptic drugs and still seizing away). Then the stroke pager goes off- a 70 something year old guy comes in from who knows where. Last seen normal 2 DAYS earlier. He had stroked out but was way out of the intervention window so we didn't contribute much. But I did watch the ED staff spring into action and start applying the full court press. Which is great. God bless them. Seriously. People who know what to do in those situations impress the hell out of me.
There are many, many examples of how western medicine mitigates unnecessary suffering. If a six year old has a brain tumor and surgeons can fix it, go for it. If folks in their 50s and 60s can have their cholesterol reduced and blood pressure controlled by taking a few pills- have at it. I'm sure I’ll be on some of those pills myself one day. But I'm looking at this old man who is completely out of it, dried vomit down the side of his cheek and all I can think is "What in the hell are they doing?" This guy is doing his very best to die and these folks are getting in his way.
So I spend the rest of the yesterday and much of today thinking about life and death and heavy stuff like that : ) I was thinking about how our society, generally speaking, hails birth as a 'miracle' while it gives death the shaft. Now I''m not saying that birth ISN'T a miracle. Obviously it is. The arrival of a a brand new, never been here before human being is mind blowing stuff- completely unfathomable. So I'm not talking about that. But what about the other end of the spectrum. Why does death always get such a bad rap?
Just look at the symbolism we use for each. Birth is represented by the friendly, reliable stork, dutifully traveling to your town to drop off another "bundle of joy." Death is represented by the Grim Reaper- the ultimate party crasher and most unwanted of bedside guests. My point is that this all seems a little lopsided. I mean, considering that you can't have one without the other, considering that every other living thing on the planet goes through the same process, considering that buying the farm is completely inevitable and obviously the way things are supposed to be, I'm just wondering why we can't invite death in a bit more.
It’s obviously perfectly OK to be wildly and utterly inconsolable over someone's passing (not that you needed my permission). There are plenty of people whom seeing in an ICU bed would leave me devastated. But at the same time, when I was looking at that old fella in the ED, part of me just wished things could, at least some of the time, be different. The following may sound like polyanna-ish you-know-what but of course I've never let that stop me before…
What would it be like if we weren’t conditioned so deeply to be afraid of death? What if death just seemed natural, not like an “ending” but rather a different facet of existence, as equally as unfathomable as the “life” part? What if, as part of their training, health care workers were taught to apply not only their medical know-how but also their intuition to the cases that came into the ED? What if, as a society, we were accepting of certain individuals “making the call" in emergent situations? What if these individuals were trained to rapidly assess not just medical parameters but also factors such as age and quality of life? What if these individuals did not have to be concerned with law suits as society in general trusted that they would make the best decisions possible? And what if, when the situation warranted it, these individuals could say , “OK, everyone- stop what you’re doing. It’s time. Let’s start getting Mr Johnson ready.”
And what if, just like that, the rushing around came to a halt. What if everyone present took a deep breath, looked at each other and smiled, knowing that they would, once again, have the privilege of helping someone die.
What if someone dimmed the lights while others removed the leads and withdrew the tubes. What if one person washed his body while someone else played with his hair. What if one persons only job was to bundle him up in warm blankets and soft pillows. What if those in attendance were fear-less as they did all of this, knowing that what they were witnessing was just part of It All, nothing less than the majesty and mystery of life returning back from whence it came. What if they had no conditioned fears about dying such that “seizures” and “agonal breathing” were not seen as conditions to “treat” but rather as the rhythmic motions of the body’s last dance, as perfect an unfolding as the birthing occurring simultaneously on another floor. What if someone pulled a chair close and began to whisper softly into his ear “Mr Johnson- it’s safe. You're not alone. You’re with friends. You’re with people who love you. It’s safe to let go. You’ve lived a beautiful life. It’s safe to let go.”
And what if he did? What if this type of work provided him with that last needed bit of strength, allowing him to finally let go into his own beautiful destruction, another perfect wave returning to its Source, the illusion of separateness marveled at for just a moment before vanishing back into the "Ocean of Infinity."
Just wondering.
JCO MD 02/09
Monday, December 6, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
The Sweet Smell of Failure
I woke up way earlier than I needed to this morning (as I often do). My mind used this as an opportunity to jump directly into fifth gear and started bombarding me with a cornucopia of sad and depressing thoughts (as it often does). One “failed” relationship after another ran through my mind. I wallowed in this experience for about 15 minutes before recognizing the pattern as something that needed breaking, lest it go on for hours and irreversibly color my day with sadness before it even got started.
So I reached into the stash of four or five “spiritual” books I generally have going at any given time in order to disrupt the cycle. I selected a book on Toltec wisdom that I’m not especially interested in, mostly because I figured that I could just skim through it lightly until I felt sleepy without having to worry about missing anything. I randomly opened to a portion of the book where the author describes the dissolution of her relationship with her husband (who happened to be the author and shaman Don Miguel Ruiz). She wrote: “Because I knew inside myself that this dream I was living with Miguel was dead, I told Miguel he had to let me go. We needed to move into another dream. He did not want to do it but because I asked him, he said he would. He would cut emotional ties with me. This was the deepest talk we had ever had.”
When I had read enough to break my mind’s closed loop of melancholic indulgence, I shut the book, cut off the light and prepared to grab a couple of more hours of sleep. But then a different part of my mind, a part perhaps more closely connected to the wisdom of my heart, became engaged. I began mulling over these same relationships but from a different perspective.
I thought about the old flame I tried to rekindle with a few years back and how I moved half way across the country only to find myself in a cold, spiteful relationship which fell apart in matter of weeks. But instead of viewing this as a failure, I saw how this relationship was actually a masterful and compassionate gesture of the Universe which moved me in the direction of my highest good.
The summer of 2002 was a very painful time for my family which made hearing from B. a much needed surprise. Now B. wasn’t just a run of the mill ex-girlfriend. For ten years she had resided in my mind as “the one that got away.” So when she contacted me out of the blue my heart skipped more than a few beats. Long story short, we called and emailed a bit that summer. She came to visit me and then I went to visit her. We quickly convinced ourselves that we were in love and in January of ’03, I packed up everything that I owned and headed out to Denver to be with her.
As I mentioned, this was a very, very difficult time for my family. With everything that was going on, there was no way that my rational mind would have allowed me to leave during such an emotionally turbulent time. But something- my soul, my spirit, my guardian angel- I don't know- something- knew that I desperately needed to make a move. So the Universe, in its infinite wisdom and resourcefulness, simply circumvented my mind by calling in the one person in the entire world who had enough "pull" to lure me away.
Now in retrospect, this relationship had disaster written all over it right from the beginning. But that’s not the point. Rather, the point is that the Universe knew what I needed and knew what it would take to open me up to receiving it.
Within two months of my arrival in the mile high city the relationship imploded. We were just not a good fit for one another on any level. I was sad and lonely for several months as I had moved to a strange city in which I knew no one except B. But gradually I began to make friends and carve out a life for myself. Eventually, I landed a job at a fairly happening restaurant and then proceeded to have the best year of my life, doing yoga every morning and waiting tables at night. Even more importantly, my spiritual life shifted dramatically during this time. I began to delve into Buddhism and other spiritual systems. I read tons of insightful books and went on several boundary stretching retreats. I only lived in Denver for 18 months but it was an amazingly transformative time for me. And to think that the impetus for all of that growth was a “failed” relationship!
So then my mind turned to another difficult episode in my life. Back in 1999, when I was about 3 years sober, I went through an extremely painful time with a male friend of mind. D. was one of my oldest friends who over the years had proven himself to be unusually generous and supportive. But, unbeknownst to D., our relationship had been out of balance for some time. For several years, I felt inferior to D. I saw many attributes and qualities in him that I did not see in myself. I felt that I was essentially less than D.
Well, that summer, I met an awfully cute girl at the beach and we started dating. To make a long story short (and this is a vast oversimplification) after dating for about 6 weeks, this young woman left me and started dating D. Now because she and I had only been dating for about 6 weeks, (and to tell the truth, until she left, I really wasn’t that into her) under different circumstances, it is conceivable that I could moved on without too much difficulty. But the problem was, when this woman jumped my ship for D’s, it hit me directly in a spot that was excruciatingly sensitive. I already felt less than D. to begin with and so this young lady leaving me for him landed on me like an atom bomb. I was absolutely devastated. And though I initially attributed the pain to the loss of this great girl to my dirty, rotten scoundrel “friend”, I eventually realized that it actually stemmed from the fact that, in my mind, this whole incident was merely a confirmation of what I already believed was true- that D. was a better man.
I wish I could say I handled this with perfect aplomb but I most certainly did not. I cried and felt sick to my stomach periodically for several days and then hated my friend with a burning passion for several years. We barely spoke over the next 2 or 3 years and when we did speak I made sure to let him know how badly he had hurt me and how intensely I resented him for it.
As time passed, I stayed sober and continued to work on myself, doing what I could to grow spiritually and emotionally. I had gone back to college just a few weeks after this whole thing went down and over the course of several years I enjoyed quite a bit of academic success, making myself into an unlikely candidate for medical school along the way. As even more time passed, I began to date and found myself in a few successful relationships. Gradually, as I felt better about myself, my resentment towards my friend cooled and our relationship slowly began to repair itself.
The feelings I experienced immediately after this incident were some of the most painful of my life though I know now that they were part of a healing crisis. A boil of sorts had been lanced and the emotional pus needed to flow. It wasn’t pretty but it was absolutely necessary. The pain I felt ended up being a crucible in which a large dose of my “I’m not good enough” karma was incinerated.
Now, eleven years down the road, D and I have been back in each other’s lives for many years, only this time on a much more even keel. I know that D isn’t a better man. He’s just a man- a talented, open hearted man, imperfect like me, and one that I am grateful to call my friend.
So these are just two examples of “failed” relationships that, when viewed from a higher plane, reveal themselves to be the beautifully orchestrated work of a greater intelligence. In some mysterious way, souls seem to have the ability to come together out of profound love and compassion to initiate healing. In this dimension, these healings are often thoroughly disguised by the pain and sorrow that they bring. But I can see this morning how these same “failed”, relationships have beautifully and elegantly served to direct me towards my highest good.
So this morning, I am profoundly grateful to B. In another time and place, a place that is at once time-less and place-less, I can see my soul making an agreement with B’s soul- “Hey, when I am unable to break the ties that have me bound, will you come and find and set me free?” And I hear B’s soul reply “Of course I will, my Love.” And then my soul sought out D’s soul and said “I trust you and know that you love you me. When my soul gets bombarded by the stories ego spins about me being ‘less than’, will you come and find me and teach me that I don’t have to compare myself to others?” And D’s soul replied “Of course I will, my Love.”
And there have been others that I have taught me lessons equally as profound. I apparently asked another soul “When the voices of self hate threaten to overwhelm me, will you come find me and teach me to show myself compassion” And this soul replied “Of course I will, my Love.” And I asked another soul “When my mind and heart become closed to possibility, will you come find me and show me the healing power of love and community?” And this soul replied “Of course I will, my Love”
Now I can’t say for certain that this is the way things are. I don’t knowingly travel in astral realms nor do I remember any time I may have spent in the bardo. But there has been so much coincidence, healing, good fortune, perfect timing and second chances in my life that something magical and loving, unseen and beneficent has to be afoot. I don’t understand it. I’ve just lived it.
So let’s return to the Toltec wisdom. I find it interesting that the author states that because her “dream”/relationship was “dead,” she needed to move into a different dream (one that was presumably, “alive.”) Relationships are the most crucial element of this human experience, are they not? And as we all know, they can be beautiful or painful, healing or destructive, loving or violent (though perhaps most commonly a hodgepodge of all of these in varying degrees.) While relationships seem to be the fundamental healing instrument employed by the Universe, as the author points out, they are all still part of the dream (or the nightmare, depending on the nature of the relationship.) That is, relationships, as deep and profound as they appear from our human vantage point, remain merely instruments, beautiful instruments, which will one day also be surrended and forgotten once the Great Reality to which they lead us is realized.
As long as the dream stays “alive”, one can assume that the relationship is functioning to help each soul attain its highest good. But when the dream dies, it may signal that it is time for the souls to move on and seek vital dreams, ones in which new lessons can be learned and new healings can occur.
Having the wisdom to know when this time has arrived is a gift that that should be counted among the most merciful of graces, one that I wish for myself and others in the greatest abundance.
Gassho
So I reached into the stash of four or five “spiritual” books I generally have going at any given time in order to disrupt the cycle. I selected a book on Toltec wisdom that I’m not especially interested in, mostly because I figured that I could just skim through it lightly until I felt sleepy without having to worry about missing anything. I randomly opened to a portion of the book where the author describes the dissolution of her relationship with her husband (who happened to be the author and shaman Don Miguel Ruiz). She wrote: “Because I knew inside myself that this dream I was living with Miguel was dead, I told Miguel he had to let me go. We needed to move into another dream. He did not want to do it but because I asked him, he said he would. He would cut emotional ties with me. This was the deepest talk we had ever had.”
When I had read enough to break my mind’s closed loop of melancholic indulgence, I shut the book, cut off the light and prepared to grab a couple of more hours of sleep. But then a different part of my mind, a part perhaps more closely connected to the wisdom of my heart, became engaged. I began mulling over these same relationships but from a different perspective.
I thought about the old flame I tried to rekindle with a few years back and how I moved half way across the country only to find myself in a cold, spiteful relationship which fell apart in matter of weeks. But instead of viewing this as a failure, I saw how this relationship was actually a masterful and compassionate gesture of the Universe which moved me in the direction of my highest good.
The summer of 2002 was a very painful time for my family which made hearing from B. a much needed surprise. Now B. wasn’t just a run of the mill ex-girlfriend. For ten years she had resided in my mind as “the one that got away.” So when she contacted me out of the blue my heart skipped more than a few beats. Long story short, we called and emailed a bit that summer. She came to visit me and then I went to visit her. We quickly convinced ourselves that we were in love and in January of ’03, I packed up everything that I owned and headed out to Denver to be with her.
As I mentioned, this was a very, very difficult time for my family. With everything that was going on, there was no way that my rational mind would have allowed me to leave during such an emotionally turbulent time. But something- my soul, my spirit, my guardian angel- I don't know- something- knew that I desperately needed to make a move. So the Universe, in its infinite wisdom and resourcefulness, simply circumvented my mind by calling in the one person in the entire world who had enough "pull" to lure me away.
Now in retrospect, this relationship had disaster written all over it right from the beginning. But that’s not the point. Rather, the point is that the Universe knew what I needed and knew what it would take to open me up to receiving it.
Within two months of my arrival in the mile high city the relationship imploded. We were just not a good fit for one another on any level. I was sad and lonely for several months as I had moved to a strange city in which I knew no one except B. But gradually I began to make friends and carve out a life for myself. Eventually, I landed a job at a fairly happening restaurant and then proceeded to have the best year of my life, doing yoga every morning and waiting tables at night. Even more importantly, my spiritual life shifted dramatically during this time. I began to delve into Buddhism and other spiritual systems. I read tons of insightful books and went on several boundary stretching retreats. I only lived in Denver for 18 months but it was an amazingly transformative time for me. And to think that the impetus for all of that growth was a “failed” relationship!
So then my mind turned to another difficult episode in my life. Back in 1999, when I was about 3 years sober, I went through an extremely painful time with a male friend of mind. D. was one of my oldest friends who over the years had proven himself to be unusually generous and supportive. But, unbeknownst to D., our relationship had been out of balance for some time. For several years, I felt inferior to D. I saw many attributes and qualities in him that I did not see in myself. I felt that I was essentially less than D.
Well, that summer, I met an awfully cute girl at the beach and we started dating. To make a long story short (and this is a vast oversimplification) after dating for about 6 weeks, this young woman left me and started dating D. Now because she and I had only been dating for about 6 weeks, (and to tell the truth, until she left, I really wasn’t that into her) under different circumstances, it is conceivable that I could moved on without too much difficulty. But the problem was, when this woman jumped my ship for D’s, it hit me directly in a spot that was excruciatingly sensitive. I already felt less than D. to begin with and so this young lady leaving me for him landed on me like an atom bomb. I was absolutely devastated. And though I initially attributed the pain to the loss of this great girl to my dirty, rotten scoundrel “friend”, I eventually realized that it actually stemmed from the fact that, in my mind, this whole incident was merely a confirmation of what I already believed was true- that D. was a better man.
I wish I could say I handled this with perfect aplomb but I most certainly did not. I cried and felt sick to my stomach periodically for several days and then hated my friend with a burning passion for several years. We barely spoke over the next 2 or 3 years and when we did speak I made sure to let him know how badly he had hurt me and how intensely I resented him for it.
As time passed, I stayed sober and continued to work on myself, doing what I could to grow spiritually and emotionally. I had gone back to college just a few weeks after this whole thing went down and over the course of several years I enjoyed quite a bit of academic success, making myself into an unlikely candidate for medical school along the way. As even more time passed, I began to date and found myself in a few successful relationships. Gradually, as I felt better about myself, my resentment towards my friend cooled and our relationship slowly began to repair itself.
The feelings I experienced immediately after this incident were some of the most painful of my life though I know now that they were part of a healing crisis. A boil of sorts had been lanced and the emotional pus needed to flow. It wasn’t pretty but it was absolutely necessary. The pain I felt ended up being a crucible in which a large dose of my “I’m not good enough” karma was incinerated.
Now, eleven years down the road, D and I have been back in each other’s lives for many years, only this time on a much more even keel. I know that D isn’t a better man. He’s just a man- a talented, open hearted man, imperfect like me, and one that I am grateful to call my friend.
So these are just two examples of “failed” relationships that, when viewed from a higher plane, reveal themselves to be the beautifully orchestrated work of a greater intelligence. In some mysterious way, souls seem to have the ability to come together out of profound love and compassion to initiate healing. In this dimension, these healings are often thoroughly disguised by the pain and sorrow that they bring. But I can see this morning how these same “failed”, relationships have beautifully and elegantly served to direct me towards my highest good.
So this morning, I am profoundly grateful to B. In another time and place, a place that is at once time-less and place-less, I can see my soul making an agreement with B’s soul- “Hey, when I am unable to break the ties that have me bound, will you come and find and set me free?” And I hear B’s soul reply “Of course I will, my Love.” And then my soul sought out D’s soul and said “I trust you and know that you love you me. When my soul gets bombarded by the stories ego spins about me being ‘less than’, will you come and find me and teach me that I don’t have to compare myself to others?” And D’s soul replied “Of course I will, my Love.”
And there have been others that I have taught me lessons equally as profound. I apparently asked another soul “When the voices of self hate threaten to overwhelm me, will you come find me and teach me to show myself compassion” And this soul replied “Of course I will, my Love.” And I asked another soul “When my mind and heart become closed to possibility, will you come find me and show me the healing power of love and community?” And this soul replied “Of course I will, my Love”
Now I can’t say for certain that this is the way things are. I don’t knowingly travel in astral realms nor do I remember any time I may have spent in the bardo. But there has been so much coincidence, healing, good fortune, perfect timing and second chances in my life that something magical and loving, unseen and beneficent has to be afoot. I don’t understand it. I’ve just lived it.
So let’s return to the Toltec wisdom. I find it interesting that the author states that because her “dream”/relationship was “dead,” she needed to move into a different dream (one that was presumably, “alive.”) Relationships are the most crucial element of this human experience, are they not? And as we all know, they can be beautiful or painful, healing or destructive, loving or violent (though perhaps most commonly a hodgepodge of all of these in varying degrees.) While relationships seem to be the fundamental healing instrument employed by the Universe, as the author points out, they are all still part of the dream (or the nightmare, depending on the nature of the relationship.) That is, relationships, as deep and profound as they appear from our human vantage point, remain merely instruments, beautiful instruments, which will one day also be surrended and forgotten once the Great Reality to which they lead us is realized.
As long as the dream stays “alive”, one can assume that the relationship is functioning to help each soul attain its highest good. But when the dream dies, it may signal that it is time for the souls to move on and seek vital dreams, ones in which new lessons can be learned and new healings can occur.
Having the wisdom to know when this time has arrived is a gift that that should be counted among the most merciful of graces, one that I wish for myself and others in the greatest abundance.
Gassho
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Old School
The following is an email exchange from the Fall of 2008 between myself and a former professor of mine.
In the fall of 1999 I decided to give undergrad another try. I enrolled at the College of William and Mary and started taking pre-med classes. That first semester I found myself in Dr Orwoll's General Chemistry class. Bob Orwoll is an incredibly kind and dignified man. His encouragement and generosity were invaluable to a young man facing an uphill battle with self doubt. I am eternally grateful that the Universe saw fit to have such a kind soul waiting for me when I was ready to take chance on something that at the time seemed like quite a long shot. Gassho
Hey Bob- Christian O'Neil here- one of your former Chemistry proteges. You cross my mind from time to time and I thought I'd take a minute to write.
It was the Fall of 1999 when I started my second college career at W&M.
When I walked in to your class, I knew that O was oxygen, H was hydrogen and was reasonably certain that N was nitrogen. That was about the extent of my chemistry knowledge. To make a long story short, I did go on to medical school- I started at the University of Cincinnati in 2004. I graduated a few months ago and am now a first year psychiatry resident at the University of New Mexico.
Anyway, just wanted to drop a line and say hello. Your kindness and patience during my first semester (when I was surrounded by all of those bright, young whippersnappers) has not been forgotten. Hope all is well with you. Best- Christian O'Neil MD : )
Hi Christian O'Neil MD,
It's letters like yours that make teaching so rewarding.
I can confess to you now that, during your first weeks in General
Chemistry, I thought that you had set an unachievable goal for
yourself. As you just wrote, you showed little understanding of the
basic principles of math and science. I'd seen others with similar
good intentions but without the basic knowledge who didn't even make
it to the end of the first semester. I was quite certain that you
were going to be another casualty. So when you finished with your A
in my class, I gave myself a good scolding for prejudging your
case. You taught me an important lesson.
So, Christian, my enthusiastic congratulations for your
accomplishments have to be tempered a little with an apology for my
doubts that you wouldn't even make it through General Chem. Your
persistence and determination were outstanding.
So, thank you for writing. Your e-mail made my day.
Bob
In the fall of 1999 I decided to give undergrad another try. I enrolled at the College of William and Mary and started taking pre-med classes. That first semester I found myself in Dr Orwoll's General Chemistry class. Bob Orwoll is an incredibly kind and dignified man. His encouragement and generosity were invaluable to a young man facing an uphill battle with self doubt. I am eternally grateful that the Universe saw fit to have such a kind soul waiting for me when I was ready to take chance on something that at the time seemed like quite a long shot. Gassho
Hey Bob- Christian O'Neil here- one of your former Chemistry proteges. You cross my mind from time to time and I thought I'd take a minute to write.
It was the Fall of 1999 when I started my second college career at W&M.
When I walked in to your class, I knew that O was oxygen, H was hydrogen and was reasonably certain that N was nitrogen. That was about the extent of my chemistry knowledge. To make a long story short, I did go on to medical school- I started at the University of Cincinnati in 2004. I graduated a few months ago and am now a first year psychiatry resident at the University of New Mexico.
Anyway, just wanted to drop a line and say hello. Your kindness and patience during my first semester (when I was surrounded by all of those bright, young whippersnappers) has not been forgotten. Hope all is well with you. Best- Christian O'Neil MD : )
Hi Christian O'Neil MD,
It's letters like yours that make teaching so rewarding.
I can confess to you now that, during your first weeks in General
Chemistry, I thought that you had set an unachievable goal for
yourself. As you just wrote, you showed little understanding of the
basic principles of math and science. I'd seen others with similar
good intentions but without the basic knowledge who didn't even make
it to the end of the first semester. I was quite certain that you
were going to be another casualty. So when you finished with your A
in my class, I gave myself a good scolding for prejudging your
case. You taught me an important lesson.
So, Christian, my enthusiastic congratulations for your
accomplishments have to be tempered a little with an apology for my
doubts that you wouldn't even make it through General Chem. Your
persistence and determination were outstanding.
So, thank you for writing. Your e-mail made my day.
Bob
So, Which Way Are You Going?
She definitely caught my eye. Jesus, how could she not have? Before my censor could step in, I heard myself blurt out, “So, which way are you going?” She said “I’m not.” I said “You’re not what?” She said “Going a way. I’m just going.” I thought that sounded cool. “Mind if I go?” She shook her head ‘No’. “Was that 'No, you don’t mind’ or ‘No, I can’t go?’” She told me to shut up and smiled and took my hand.
So we started walking. There were several paths to choose from and we just picked the one that felt right (though we really didn’t give it much thought). We talked some but mostly just held hands and enjoyed the silence.
All of sudden, while I was rambling on about nothing, she stopped, turned towards me with big, wide eyes and said “SHHHH!” I said, “Did you just SHHH me?” Then she looked at me with the most reverent expression I’d ever seen and gently whispered “Shhh.” I stood there and stared at her for what seemed like forever. Finally she spoke “I think…I think this might be the place.” Then she smiled and her eyes rolled gently back “Oh God…I’m sure of it”
Then I too became sure of it.
And then everything just got real good (though nothing had actually changed at all). Rather it was as if the goodness that had always been suddenly became perfectly obvious.
We looked at each other, our faces a mix of awe and bliss, and burst into a fit of tears and laughter. And then we just laughed and cried and danced and cried and cried.
And then, as best as I can describe, our hearts kind of merged together into one giant heart which took off up through the clouds and flew around the entire world. And then it went around the sun. And then it went around all worlds and all suns throughout all time and all times. We just laid upon the ground, watching, spectators to the grandest, yet simplest, most indescribably beautiful scene one could imagine.
At some point, we drifted off into a deep, restful sleep (the only real sleep either of us had ever known). We awoke facing one another, each looking at the other with a recognition of what had always been. Eventually, our hearts returned and were gladly re-embodied- though from then on I was never again really “me” and she was never again really “her” (but we pretended we were anyway 'cause it made it more fun.)
So we started back walking as there was nothing else that needed doing, time having been rendered utterly meaningless.
We just walked and walked until eventually, she was gone. And then, sometime later, I was gone. And, finally, at long last, the path was gone.
At that exact moment, in another time and place, in another universe altogether, a girl caught a young man’s eye. He smiled and asked “So, which way are you going?”
So we started walking. There were several paths to choose from and we just picked the one that felt right (though we really didn’t give it much thought). We talked some but mostly just held hands and enjoyed the silence.
All of sudden, while I was rambling on about nothing, she stopped, turned towards me with big, wide eyes and said “SHHHH!” I said, “Did you just SHHH me?” Then she looked at me with the most reverent expression I’d ever seen and gently whispered “Shhh.” I stood there and stared at her for what seemed like forever. Finally she spoke “I think…I think this might be the place.” Then she smiled and her eyes rolled gently back “Oh God…I’m sure of it”
Then I too became sure of it.
And then everything just got real good (though nothing had actually changed at all). Rather it was as if the goodness that had always been suddenly became perfectly obvious.
We looked at each other, our faces a mix of awe and bliss, and burst into a fit of tears and laughter. And then we just laughed and cried and danced and cried and cried.
And then, as best as I can describe, our hearts kind of merged together into one giant heart which took off up through the clouds and flew around the entire world. And then it went around the sun. And then it went around all worlds and all suns throughout all time and all times. We just laid upon the ground, watching, spectators to the grandest, yet simplest, most indescribably beautiful scene one could imagine.
At some point, we drifted off into a deep, restful sleep (the only real sleep either of us had ever known). We awoke facing one another, each looking at the other with a recognition of what had always been. Eventually, our hearts returned and were gladly re-embodied- though from then on I was never again really “me” and she was never again really “her” (but we pretended we were anyway 'cause it made it more fun.)
So we started back walking as there was nothing else that needed doing, time having been rendered utterly meaningless.
We just walked and walked until eventually, she was gone. And then, sometime later, I was gone. And, finally, at long last, the path was gone.
At that exact moment, in another time and place, in another universe altogether, a girl caught a young man’s eye. He smiled and asked “So, which way are you going?”
Right Now, Just Like This
"The problem is that you think something has to happen. It's actually happening continuously, and you simply don't see it. I don't have anything that you don't have. The difference is that I am no longer looking for anything. This is it, and that's the end of it. Give up the search for something to happen and fall in love, fall intimately in love with the gift of presence in what is. Here, right here, is the seat of all that you will ever long for. It is simple and ordinary, and magnificent. You see, you are already home"- Tony Parsons
No need to change anything. No need for "you" to "get" this. Nothing to "get". The person who thinks that they don't get this, who thinks they need to change, grow, improve, have more of this or less of that- all beside the point.
It's Just This- "Radically, Always and Already"
The thinking you don't get it is precisely "getting it". It's impossible to not get. Getting is All There Is, even when it looks/feels/seems like not getting (which it's not). There is only freedom, even when it is labeled bondage. It's here, now. The way it is. The universe is always forthcoming, always generous, never hides the Way It is from us. 'Cause we are it- the way we are now.
How touching
No need to change anything. No need for "you" to "get" this. Nothing to "get". The person who thinks that they don't get this, who thinks they need to change, grow, improve, have more of this or less of that- all beside the point.
It's Just This- "Radically, Always and Already"
The thinking you don't get it is precisely "getting it". It's impossible to not get. Getting is All There Is, even when it looks/feels/seems like not getting (which it's not). There is only freedom, even when it is labeled bondage. It's here, now. The way it is. The universe is always forthcoming, always generous, never hides the Way It is from us. 'Cause we are it- the way we are now.
How touching
Monday, October 25, 2010
The Tao of Charlie Brown
Sometimes conditioning’s games can almost be funny. Like when Lucy convinces Charlie Brown over and over again that this time she’ll hold the football in place and allow him to kick it, only to move it away each and every time, always at the worst possible moment, leaving Charlie once again, literally and metaphorically, flat on his back.
Other times there is nothing funny about it whatsoever. The beatings administered by conditioning can be intense. At least mine can be. Like a surgeon or an archer or professional boxer- conditioning knows precisely those places where I am most vulnerable and strikes with ruthless efficiency.
Conditioning is also a master thespian and a salesman par excellence. Its voice, by turns trustworthy, seductive or punitive, seems above reproach and never raises suspicion. Why would it? After all, it’s my very own, right?
Conditioning’s conditioning is also something at which to marvel. Resourceful and patient, conditioning’s stamina makes Ironman competitors look like pushovers. Conditioning never rests, never tires and is never satisfied. It has one job- to inflict suffering and it executes this mission with the relentlessness of a Terminator.
But the real genius of conditioning is the way it crafts its double-binded, damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t scenarios. One must stand in awe of conditioning in this regard. The way it can strong-arm, frighten or sweet-talk me into making a decision and then pounce on me instantly for making it is simply astonishing.
Conditioning, the quintessential silver tongued devil, knows every trick in the book. It knows me better than I even know myself. It is privy to every nook and cranny of my mind and every nuance of my thoughts. Like it was given my playbook the night before the big game, conditioning sees my defensive maneuvers the instant they are deployed and side steps them with the deftness of ninja.
For as long as I play the game, resistance truly is futile.
I tangled with conditioning today and it was another rout. A slaughter house really. “Man, look what you did. AGAIN! This time you've really done it. Man, you are screwed. Screwed! You’re going to end up living in a box and dying all alone, but only after first suffering for many years, of course. You will never learn will you man? NEVER! How many times are you going to make these same stupid choices? I’ll tell you how long- forever. Got that? FOR-EVER! ALONE, SUFFERING AND IN A BOX! GOT IT?!”
That’s pretty rough huh?
But you know, I had an interesting thought this evening. I asked myself, “What if none of this stuff were true?” I mean, what if, on the deepest, most fundamental level, all of conditioning’s clamoring was really just nonsense? What if, despite its self-proclaimed wisdom and credibility and its strident insistence that it is only "looking out for my/our best interest", conditioning were really nothing more than a strand of aberrant neuronal code, like some sort of virus, that had learned to replicate itself and then became stuck in the “on” position. I mean, viruses cause all sorts of suffering of course, but no one could really call them ‘evil’ could they? They are just playing their part, doing what they do. What if my conditioning is like that? What if all of conditioning’s output was just rubbish, not evil but also utterly useless? What if for all of these years I had been making decisions based on “information” (and I use that term loosely) that was completely and thoroughly lacking in any truthfulness or utility? And what if I just decided to categorically ignore its output? What if I learned to send its advice, warnings, opinions, predictions, preferences and prejudices straight to the Recycle Bin? What if, to borrow from Joshua the supercomputer from “Wargames”, “the only winning move is not to play”?
And so as I type this, a thought comes up- “Well then how would you get by? Who would tell you when you need to brush your teeth? How will you make decisions? How will you work, communicate, eat, sleep, shit, shower or shave? You need me buddy boy!”
Really? Is this true? I don’t know, it seems to make sense and yet it sounds awfully familiar. It sounds like just what someone who was profiting from keeping me in the dark would say- “Hey, I’m just looking out for YOU.” My reply to this is “No, actually you are looking out YOU, trying to keep yourself in the driver’s seat.”
So how will I make decisions? I don’t know for sure. But I am thinking that it is time to just dwell in the heart and let it have a chance for awhile. Conditioning has been in charge for long enough and frankly, it’s time for a new administration. It may turn out that the heart doesn’t know what it’s doing either but that is a chance I’m willing to take.
I’m not naïve enough to think that conditioning is going to go quietly into the night. I expect that it will sound the alarms and pull out all of the stops. But there really is no other choice to make is there? Letting go of the attachment to my own conditioning (which of course is not “mine” at all but the shared conditioning of not just my family but of humanity in general) is the work of a lifetime. It’s why I’m here. So I will just keeping going and get my head up above water for longer and longer periods of time until the glimpses of the territory above the water, the Land of the Truth, become more and more familiar.
And one day, as I find myself once again running up to kick the ball, I’ll see the process for what it is. I’ll draw my leg back to take a mighty swing before, at the last second, bringing my foot back down to rest upon the Earth. And then I’ll lean over and kiss my teacher Lucy gently on the forehead, pick up my ball and go home.
Gassho
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Kumari Unfolding
About 3 years ago I decided I was going to get a real tattoo. I had gotten some little stuff done over the years but became ready to get to big piece- some real artwork. I thought about it awhile and came up with a Buddhist image that I liked, though didn't love. Based on a recommendation, I set up an appointment with Mike Dorsey at Permanent Productions in Cincinnati. When I got there I showed him what I had in mind. He said that it would be no problem. As it turned out, Mike was pretty knowledgeable about Buddhist imagery and, for the hell of it, showed me a painting he had purchased from another tattoo artist (who had, in turn, purchased it from a Nepali artist.) He didn't know her name or anything about her- he just thought it was cool and that I might like to see it. Well, the painting blew me away- it was of a goddess, fierce and sexy and engulfed in flames. I knew right then it was what I would be getting. "Can you do that instead?" I asked. "Sure- but it's going to have to be a lot bigger." "That's fine." Sixteen hours later, she was on my back- and under my skin.
After the tattoo was finished, I walked around with my shirt off more. Mike did a beautiful job and we don't get tattooed to keep the hidden right? The size and color caught peoples' eyes I guess and not infrequently, people would ask (or try to guess) who she was. I heard it all- Kali, Red Tara, etc. Truth was, I didn't know myself (pun intended). I would just answer "a Nepali goddess." To back up for a second, one reason that I knew I was ready to get a big piece done was because I had gotten over the idea that a tattoo had to "mean" something. That puts a lot of pressure on someone I think, forcing them to stress and struggle to choose the exact "right" thing. I decided that I was just going to get something that looked cool, that I thought would look good on my body. (The other thing that needed to happen before getting a piece this size was that I needed to be OK with regret. Tattoos may come out looking like shit and you may hate it. But it will go with you to your grave so if you're not sure, better get something small and inconspicuous because there is no going back.) So for several months, I just went around with this goddess on my back, not knowing (or caring) what she represented. She was just decoration.
So last summer, I was at a hot springs in Colorado and a woman stopped me and asked if she could take a look at my back. I turned around and she said "How cool- a Tibetan dakini." She offered a specific name as well though it turned out to be incorrect. But I had learned somethings. I now knew what she was (a dakini, not a goddess) and I knew what tradition she came out of (Tibetan Buddhism). So from then on, when people asked who/what she was, I answered "A Tibetan dakini."
When I returned to New Mexico, I googled "dakini" but was unable to find an image that matched "mine" exactly. I did find a book title on Amazon that looked interesting, however- "Dakini's Warm Breath" by Judith Simer-Brown which I ordered. I opened the book when it arrived and there, on page three, she was. There was my dakini. Now I had her name- "Kumari." I tried to read up on her but, at least in the first chapter, there wasn't a whole bunch of information about her. Also, the book is a pretty sophisticated disussion of Vajrayana Buddhism and was really over my head. So I just placed it alongside my other unread books, confident that I had received what I needed.
About a month or so later, I was up at a spa in Santa Fe soaking in some hot water (a pattern begins to emerge here) when a man who identified himself as a Tibetan Buddhist commented on my tattoo and asked “What made you pick her?" Without really thinking, I heard myself answer "I didn't. She picked me." That moment confirmed what I must have already known intuitively- that my relationship to Kumari was something that was going to unfold over time. She was more than just a pretty face and I had done more than just decorate my back with her. Something was going on.
A few weeks ago, while soaking in another hot spring, a guy asked me about my tattoo. I decided to not to give him a very deep explanation as he was smoking weed like a Rasta on chemo but his question did get me to thinking. The hike back to the campsite was about 1 mile and this is what I came up with.
So one does not have to look far to find examples of fierce dieties within the spiritual traditions (ie Kali in Hinduism, Manjusri in Buddhism). Using Kali as an example, one may wonder at first glance why anyone would worship such a murderous bitch. (Kali is generally depicted straddling a prostrate Shiva, holding several severed heads and wearing a necklace of skulls). Obviously no one would. The violent imagery serves as a metaphor (for much more than I am qualified to discuss) but you get the point. Anyone who is even slightly curious about the symbolism involved in depictions of Kali would have no trouble googling very scholarly discussions of how Kali actually severs the head of our egos, freeing us from our conditioned beliefs etc etc blah blah blah. I read about this stuff sometimes and have a vague understanding of it all which, though interesting, has had zero impact on my life. But the other day was different…
So I’m walking down the trail, thinking about Kumari when a question came to me: “Well, whose brain is she holding?” Answer: “Yours” Question: “Well, what is she going to do with it? Eat it?” Answer: “It’s not for her. She doesn’t need it. It’s for you.” Then I began to understand all of this differently. I didn’t really gain any new insight, rather I understood what I already knew in a different way. Yes, that definitely is my skull she’s holding and those are my brains. Kumari will slice off your head and feed your own brains back to you- if you’ve got the balls to eat them. With a fierce compassion, Kumari will lop off your head and bring about the death of all you know and all you think you know, gracing you with the “severe mercy” of dying before you die.
But I also realized something else- if this is what I really (and I mean REALLY) want, I better be ready because Kumari isn’t playing around. Before one asks this pretty lady to dance they should probably think it through long and hard. Put another way- be careful what you wish for.
Gassho
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
My Oprah Dream
So this was my last dream of the morning.
I’m at a banquet for the 40 finalists chosen for Oprah’s “Win Your Own Show” contest. It’s me, my girlfriend and 38 other women. We are all seated at a big, fancy table. Each of my fellow finalists is dressed like they are getting ready to walk the red carpet at the Academy awards. They all are wearing beautiful evening gowns. Their hair and make up are all perfect and each one is smiling radiantly, displaying their perfect pearly white teeth. There is a stunningly beautiful female MC of sorts holding a microphone who walks around the table asking each contestant the same question- “Can you remember what it was like when you were an egg in your mother’s ovary?”
One by one, these women proceeded to give the most incredible and eloquent answers. Some of their answers were very poignant and moving while some were very clever and funny. But they were all fantastic. Several women actually sung their answers with the most angelic voices you’ve ever heard.
While all of this is going on, there was a consistent running dialogue going through my head- “Great. I’m surrounded by a table full of Nobel laureates and I have no idea how to answer this freaking question.” The whole time I was dreading when the lady with the mic would get to me because I knew I was just going to have to say some really lame excuse like “Umm…well…gee, Oprah. I’m kinda having a hard time here. I can’t really remember that far back. Sorry. I guess I’m not very imaginative. I’ll just pass.”
When the microphone lady got to the woman seated to my immediate left, I woke up.
My first thought while I was still half asleep was “Whew. Thank God. At least I didn’t have to listen to myself embarrass myself with some lame answer.” I dwelled there for a moment or two before a completely different thought came to my mind: “WAIT A COTTON PICKIN’ MINUTE! THAT WAS MY DREAM! All of the deep, profound things that those women were saying- that came from me! All of that creativity and imagination and talent came from my subconscious!”
So here is how I am understanding this this morning.
My experience of the world is more accurately the experience I have of my own projections. I seem prone to project certain “positive” qualities outwardly onto others but rarely inwardly onto myself. I think to myself “Wow, so and so is soo talented, capable, successful, beautiful” etc while I reserve the much harsher projections for myself (and for those whom I dislike.)
So I think I understand what people mean when they say that we create our own experience. If I think that I suck, well, in a sense I do. If I think in terms of scarcity then I do experience lack. If I think the world is unsafe well, guess what? It is.
So what is the solution? Can I just change my mind? Could it possibly be that simple? Do I have a say over the content of my thoughts and in my beliefs? With all of the unnecessary suffering I cause myself (and by extension, others) it’s worth a try.
It’s funny though. At the end of the day, our positive projections may not be any more “true” than our negative ones. All projections- both positive and negative-are just thought forms, just mental constructs, making them all, from a Buddhist perspective at least, inherently empty.
But as my favorite Zen teacher posted on Facebook a few weeks ago “Since we're making it all up anyway, we might as well make up something we like.”
Gassho
PS That is a pretty interesting question though. If anyone can answer it please do.
I’m at a banquet for the 40 finalists chosen for Oprah’s “Win Your Own Show” contest. It’s me, my girlfriend and 38 other women. We are all seated at a big, fancy table. Each of my fellow finalists is dressed like they are getting ready to walk the red carpet at the Academy awards. They all are wearing beautiful evening gowns. Their hair and make up are all perfect and each one is smiling radiantly, displaying their perfect pearly white teeth. There is a stunningly beautiful female MC of sorts holding a microphone who walks around the table asking each contestant the same question- “Can you remember what it was like when you were an egg in your mother’s ovary?”
One by one, these women proceeded to give the most incredible and eloquent answers. Some of their answers were very poignant and moving while some were very clever and funny. But they were all fantastic. Several women actually sung their answers with the most angelic voices you’ve ever heard.
While all of this is going on, there was a consistent running dialogue going through my head- “Great. I’m surrounded by a table full of Nobel laureates and I have no idea how to answer this freaking question.” The whole time I was dreading when the lady with the mic would get to me because I knew I was just going to have to say some really lame excuse like “Umm…well…gee, Oprah. I’m kinda having a hard time here. I can’t really remember that far back. Sorry. I guess I’m not very imaginative. I’ll just pass.”
When the microphone lady got to the woman seated to my immediate left, I woke up.
My first thought while I was still half asleep was “Whew. Thank God. At least I didn’t have to listen to myself embarrass myself with some lame answer.” I dwelled there for a moment or two before a completely different thought came to my mind: “WAIT A COTTON PICKIN’ MINUTE! THAT WAS MY DREAM! All of the deep, profound things that those women were saying- that came from me! All of that creativity and imagination and talent came from my subconscious!”
So here is how I am understanding this this morning.
My experience of the world is more accurately the experience I have of my own projections. I seem prone to project certain “positive” qualities outwardly onto others but rarely inwardly onto myself. I think to myself “Wow, so and so is soo talented, capable, successful, beautiful” etc while I reserve the much harsher projections for myself (and for those whom I dislike.)
So I think I understand what people mean when they say that we create our own experience. If I think that I suck, well, in a sense I do. If I think in terms of scarcity then I do experience lack. If I think the world is unsafe well, guess what? It is.
So what is the solution? Can I just change my mind? Could it possibly be that simple? Do I have a say over the content of my thoughts and in my beliefs? With all of the unnecessary suffering I cause myself (and by extension, others) it’s worth a try.
It’s funny though. At the end of the day, our positive projections may not be any more “true” than our negative ones. All projections- both positive and negative-are just thought forms, just mental constructs, making them all, from a Buddhist perspective at least, inherently empty.
But as my favorite Zen teacher posted on Facebook a few weeks ago “Since we're making it all up anyway, we might as well make up something we like.”
Gassho
PS That is a pretty interesting question though. If anyone can answer it please do.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Keep it to Yourself
You know all of those little things that your intuition (yes, that's your intuition) tells you to keep to yourself, to keep secret?
Practice actually keeping them a secret.
Minds have a great difficulty resisting sharing these sorts of things. Minds often have very poor discernment and are unable to tell the "good" secrets from the "bad" ones (the ones that really should be shared with others.) When mind is unable to come up with a good reason to keep something quiet it overrides intuition's admonition (which it can do easily) and the beans are spilled. Opportunities to say "Hey look at me! Look what I'm doing" or "Look what I know!" are irresistible to egos.
So egos go ahead and prematurely share plans, ideas, hopes and dreams, and in the process, allow the magic to escape, the very magic that if allowed to accumulate could move mountains.
So instead, practice keeping secrets so that their magic and power can accumulate within you. Your intuition will surely let you know when they have ripened. And when they are at the peak of their potency, then they can be shared for the maximum benefit of others.
Gassho
Practice actually keeping them a secret.
Minds have a great difficulty resisting sharing these sorts of things. Minds often have very poor discernment and are unable to tell the "good" secrets from the "bad" ones (the ones that really should be shared with others.) When mind is unable to come up with a good reason to keep something quiet it overrides intuition's admonition (which it can do easily) and the beans are spilled. Opportunities to say "Hey look at me! Look what I'm doing" or "Look what I know!" are irresistible to egos.
So egos go ahead and prematurely share plans, ideas, hopes and dreams, and in the process, allow the magic to escape, the very magic that if allowed to accumulate could move mountains.
So instead, practice keeping secrets so that their magic and power can accumulate within you. Your intuition will surely let you know when they have ripened. And when they are at the peak of their potency, then they can be shared for the maximum benefit of others.
Gassho
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Away We Go!
Website- check. Facebook page- check. Blog- check. Twitter- check.
Our idea is solid and our guests have been great. Now we just have to keep going.
Onward!
Our idea is solid and our guests have been great. Now we just have to keep going.
Onward!
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