After the Authors

I had a dream last night that I was a character in Stephen King's The Dark Tower series.  Those who've read know it's partially a story about the relationship between an author and his characters.  My dream placed me at the end of the book, where I had to say goodbye to King as he left the world of the books and returned to Maine.  I knew that, despite any attempts I might make, my narrative was complete, and my story was done.

At some point, the authors of your life will leave you behind.  Or you will leave them behind.  Some difference, no difference.  It could be a girlfriend or an organization or a practice or anything.  She will stop taking your calls or they will inform you that you services are no longer needed or you will no longer be able to do the asana.  It is inevitable.  Entropy comes for everyone.

And when you wake up from the nightmare, you realize that you have no author, or that everything is your author.  Some difference, no difference.  The story keeps going, and what you think is an ending is just a really sad part of the book.

Or a really happy one.  Maybe if enough of your authors disappear, you can stop living narratives and start living reality.

Moving With Intention

Ran Prieur linked to a comment the other day on the myriad of ways we distract ourselves from the present.  For the comment author, productivity was his distraction.

"I have a strong dislike against "wasting time." I don't like myself when I spend time on nonsense. And so I fill all of my day with "constructive things." My walk to work is filled with podcasts, the time waiting for the food to bake filled with news articles. While eating I entertain myself with shows or Ted talks or whatnot."

My distraction of choice is not so high-minded.  I like to mess around on the Internet.  I can't even be bothered to read a quarter of the articles I skim.  I tweet and post to message boards without taking any time to consider what I am reacting to or formulating my own arguments.  I flit from thing to thing without fully engaging in any of it.  I am fully present for none of it, and the comment made me think that this pattern of behavior compromises my happiness.

My new intention is to move with purpose through both the "real" and virtual world.  I am not at a place where I could fully unplug, nor do I want to.  What I can do is to try to make sure I am fully present for everything I do in front of a computer.  If I am writing a blog post, I need to concentrate on that blog post, and not rush over to Twitter or Okayplayer or wherever.  No.  Be with the blog post.  Be fully with the blog post.

And, yeah, for those moments where I can't even remember why the computer is open, I'm going to try to close it.

Letting Go

To let one's self go to the currents of the world is the path to liberation.  To stop trying to force the world to be what one wants it to be and to surf on what actually is can free us all.

And for a recovering overachiever at Step One, it is completely terrifying.

Yoga Is Yoga Is Not Something Else

Maybe you've seen them: the fawning profile of your favorite yogalebrity that grinds to a halt when the author asks said yogalebrity how her personal practice is surviving the rigors of traveling and teaching and such.  The yogalebrity gets very, very wistful and admits the days where she puts in two hours of asana practice per day are over, but she assures us we need not worry for her.  You see, she's found a NEW way to do yoga.  Now, her teaching is her yoga.  Her community service is her yoga.  Her photo shoot to convince you to buy an eco-friendly mat and send your current mat to the landfill is her yoga.

It's all nonsense, of course.

Yoga is yoga is ONLY yoga.  The only problem with that obvious statement is that it, too, is all nonsense.  Yoga is made up of eight limbs, so to do say one "does yoga" is completely devoid of meaning.  One might say that she practiced pranayama or asana or observed the yamas and the niyamas, but those phrases are aggregations as well.  To say one "did" any of them is completely empty.  The only thing you can practice is an individual thing, not a category.  You can't even do downward dog.  You can do THIS downward dog.  The one you do in the moment.  The one in the now.  Your next downward dog will be something completely different that is united with the previous downward dog mostly by linguistic convention, not reality.

Yoga bleaching is real, and the worst form of yoga bleaching might be when one tries to substitute something else for an element of yoga.  The practice of individual asanas confer a set of benefits that, by definition, can come only from the practice of asana.  Meditation, and nothing else, confers the benefits of meditation.  A thing is a thing, and nothing else is that thing.

Feel for the yogalebrity.  She knows she is not practicing asana as she once did, and she misses it.  Her attachments have gotten her all twisted up, and the tragedy is that she need not be.  She has made her choice, and her choice is just fine.  Other things are worth doing!  Other things, like teaching and traveling and making enough money to not live in a van down by the river, offer their own rewards.  If a mature adult weighs the rewards associated with an activity that necessitates she lessen her asana practice and finds that they outweight the costs, we should celebrate such enlightened decision making.  Many paths to the top of the mountain and all, but lying to one's self about what one is and is not doing is a sure way to steer directly into oncoming traffic.

Meditation Overload

I am in the midst of an identity crisis that cuts to the core of who and what I want to be.

Do I want an end to suffering?

Do I want to awaken?

Or do I want to transcend the limits of human perception and trip the light fantastic?

The first wonderful experience I had in meditation came about two years ago, thanks to Grant Morrison and his wonderful little book called The Invisibles.  Morrison sold me on the idea that there was a hidden world just outside of the reach of the every day that humans had and could access, if they'd just dive far enough into the weird and wild, where all the good stuff resides.  The fan website Barbelith led me to Condensed Chaos, which is as good an introduction into the principals of magic as I can imagine.

One of the first things an aspiring magician needs to learn is how to achieve the gnostic state.  Basically, you close your eyes or look into a mirror or a bowl of water and just...let you mind go, wander, play.  Don't forbid yourself from seeing anything, and you might see everything.  When I stopped worrying about whether what I was seeing was real, I could see a lot more cool stuff, a lot more meaningful stuff.  I saw myself as Gandalf retreating to my castle of ice.  I met my spirit animal, the grey wolf.  I journeyed deep into the heart of death and found complete peace there.  I learned so much about myself, and I felt I was moving forward.

Books got me on the gnostic path, so it's fitting that a book should have knocked me from it.  Magic had shown me glimpses of the whole world, but I didn't want a piece of the world.  I wanted the whole thing, and Buddhism Plain & Simple seemed to offer that.  All one had to do was let go of everything superfluous and just...wake up.  Awaken to ultimate reality.  Right now, because there is only now.  The key wasn't to let your mind wander but to stay present in the moment.  If one could understand right now completely, without hope or fear of anything else, one might actually wake up, and then one really could see everything.  As I learned just a little bit about Tibetan Buddhism, I saw a lot of stuff floating around like bodhisattavas that matched some of what I saw in gnosis, which only furthered my belief that Buddhism was big enough to encompass magic and a lot of other stuff.  I felt I was moving forward.

With the beginning of yoga teacher training, I've encountered a third organizing principle for meditation.  Yogic meditation seems to want to calm the fluctuations of the mind, not for the sake of awakening, but just because.  Because it will make you better, fuller, more content.  I confess I've thought the least about this type of meditation and that it appeals to me the least.

Frankly, all that the yogic ideas behind meditation have done is bring to a head a situation that had been developing for quite some time, which is that I've officially hit meditation overload.  Too many chefs have spoiled the broth.  I'm confused.  I don't know whether to seek calm or enlightenment or visions from another dimension of reality.  Too many ideas are competing for the time I spend in lotus.  I don't feel like I'm moving forward.

In the long run, I'm not too concerned about where I am.  I'm not going to stop meditating, and I recognize that even the best journeys have times spent at pit stops, lost, or stuck in a ditch.  I believe Steve Hagen when he says that all we need to do is show up and meditate each day, and the practice will teach us everything we need to know.  Ultimately, I think all of these paths have one final destination, anyway.  The Buddha and the great magicians and yogis of history are all chilling at the top of the same mountain together, calmly sipping mushroom tea and tripping off the world in all its glory.

I get all that.

But that doesn't mean I'm not frustrated now.

The 10 Year Plan

Sorry for the lack of posts lately.  I just started yoga teacher training, which has eaten up what little free time I used to have.  Anyway, I wrote this little ditty below for TT, so I figured I'd post it.  It's a little more heavy on the "me" talk than I'd like, but it is what I wrote today.

10 years from now, I intend to be awake. This goal makes a terrible topic for an essay about the future, because I can do everything I need to do achieve enlightenment today. I can meditate. I can practice yoga. I can live mindfully. I can be aware of my surroundings at this moment in time. The trick is to actually do these things, so the rest of this essay will describe the conditions that I believe will best provide the conditions to wake up.

10 years from now, I hope to have achieved financial independence. I define financial independence as some combination of accumulated resources that will allow me to live comfortably for the rest of my life and a job with tremendous flexibility in the hours it requires and the location where it can be performed. Ideally, I’d like to be a full-time professional writer, while teaching enough yoga to satisfy my passion for teaching but not so much as to distract from my own practice. I would like whatever work I do to be ethical and help as many people as possible achieve inner peace and their own definition of a good, full life. I also hope to have been and continue to be a good boyfriend/husband, son, brother, and friend. I don’t believe I have to change much to accomplish this goal.

But let’s explore this “writer” thing a bit more, shall we? Five years from now, I hope to receive regular income from writing. Even if I cannot be full-writer, given the writing I have already done, I believe it is realistic that I can get paid to write. I need to figure out how to do this, soon. The path that I have observed most writers who I admire and become professional is to maintain an active blog that they update frequently. I have such a blog that I relaunched in December and updated faithfully until teacher training started. The two immediate obstacles that I have to overcome is the lack of updates since teacher training has begun and my propensity to diversify my topics. On the former, teacher training, my regular practice, cooking, and talking with my girlfriend eats up most of my free time, but I do spend a fair amount of time each day playing video games, so time is not an excuse. On the latter, a blog focused on a single topic may be the best way to move towards financial relevance, but I think I want to resist that urge, at least for a little while longer. People are multifaceted. Their writing should be allowed to be as well. The topics on which I currently write—my yoga and meditation practices and my desire to try to live an ethical life and move towards enlightenment and waking—seem to be pretty in line with my goals of trying to earn a living ethically.

One year from now, I hope to have had writings published at major internet yoga and sports portals. Places like Elephant Journal and Mind Body Green publish work whose quality and content I am confident I can replicate. I have a reservoir of approximately 150 blog entries, many of which I could revise to make suitable for publication. The best way thing to do might be to look back and see which of my pieces have garnered a positive reaction and to make them fit the submission guidelines at EJ.

Last Night, A Pose Saved My Life

A week or two ago, friend of the Blogcast Inspector Clawseau said she wanted an entry on how yoga changed my life.  I'm not sure if I've been pushing it off, but I hadn't done it yet.

The universe has a reason for everything.

Tonight, I got home and laid down on my couch.  It was too late to make either of the classes at Cleveland Yoga.  As it turns out, I was too discouraged and exhausted to even make it off the couch for the class that takes place in my building.  I passed out for about 45 minutes and woke up as miserable as ever.  Yoga was just about the last thing I wanted to do.

But my teacher training starts tomorrow.  Maybe the fear of embarrassing myself in front of my classmates got me moving.  Maybe it was the memory of Tuesday's class, which was one of my best practices ever.  For whatever reason, I managed to get off the couch, roll out my mat, and do 20 minutes of the most miserable Sun Salutations imaginable.  I couldn't leave the past behind.  Every movement felt broken, tedious, so, so, so very wrong.

20 minutes into the practice, however, I got a gift that almost brought me to tears.  I sat and meditated, and I realized that, with the exception of my weary head, I felt fantastic.  My body felt alive, energized, healthy, and altogether perfect.  My body was so perfect that it even had areas that were still tight, which meant, OMG, I could do MOAR YOGA.  

I proceeded to practice for another hour in complete bliss and gratitude.  By the end, even my brain felt pretty good.

What have I gotten out of yoga?  It grows and changes every day.  Today, I got out of my own mess of a head.  When all seemed lost, I got on my mat, and everything got better.

Everything and Nothing That You Were

Yesterday, as part of its year in review, the New York Times ran a memoriam for Beastie Boy Adam Yauch that didn't sit well with me. Specifically, it maintained that MCA was never down with the Licensed To Ill-era frivolity:

"“Fight for Your Right” created expectations; the Beasties met those expectations by touring with cage dancers and a giant inflatable penis and hosing one another down with Budweiser onstage. But they weren’t those guys, not really....Even in “Licensed to Ill”-era interviews, you can see the Beasties already growing weary of playing the roles they’d assigned themselves."

This, frankly, is a load of shit. Yauch himself, in a quote the author includes, noted that he was more than willing to play along with the shenanigans: “I went and got drunk and made some stupid music.”

I have a problem with any attempt to scrub a person's record after they die. To do it after a Buddhist dies seems especially disrespectful and clueless.

Look, MCA was an asshole. He was a guy who gleefully made a lot of money putting women in cages on a stage.

And then he changed.

When we pretend, "oh, he was always this saintly person, they didn't REALLY mean all the bad shit they did," all we do is miss the fundamental lesson: Adam Yauch was an asshole. In my life, I have certainly been an asshole. If you haven’t been an asshole, you’ve been something else that you’re not proud of.

You know who else was things he wasn’t proud of? The Buddha. I prefer not to get into the Buddha’s previous lives stuff, but even if you accept that he was the end result of a lot of lives dedicated towards awakening, at the beginning of that chain of lives, the Buddha was not special. He was not a saint. He was as far from perfect as the rest of us. At some point in his chain of lives, the Buddha was an average guy.

And then he changed.

He got better. He found calm, and he knew that if he, vile sinner though he might be, could find enlightenment, anyone can.

When we make people we admire into saints, we rob them of their humanity, and we lose the most critical message of their lives, which is that anyone can be a hero. Anyone can wake up. It doesn’t take someone special. It doesn’t take a saint. It takes you, and you can do it right now. No matter what you or I have done, an end of our suffering is available to us. It is our birthright, it is our destiny, and we can have it right now, in this moment.

Happy New Years.

On Drinking

It's New Year's Resolution season, and I've got the fever.  For my 2013 resolution, I shall undertake one of the most common resolutions.  I shall try to drink less.

A bit of context is important, especially since my boss is one of the more frequent readers of this blog, post reboot (hi, Russ!).  I don't feel that I drink too much now.  I mean, self deluders of the world unite and everything, but in my case, I really don't think I'm what society would consider a problem drinker.  I have a beer after work about 2-3 days per week.  I will have more than that most weekend nights, but seldom more than four.  If I have four, I will not drive, because I know that four beers equals .08 BAC equals our good friend John Dewey.  Most importantly, my drinking has not caused any problems in my life of which I am aware.  My family and friends have not indicated any level of discomfort.

With that disclaimer out of the way, one can reasonably ask the question: if no one thinks you have a drinking problem, why the resolution to drink less?  To answer, I need to reference an idea that has been percolating at the back of my mind for some time but came into focus when I read Anthony Alvardo's excellent D.I.Y. Magic.  The book contains a whole chapter on different legal substances one can consume to alter one's perspective, like a bunch of coffee or yerba root.  He also, as I recall, delves into the effects of several illegal substances, none of which I use or will use, because I like being employed.

Anyway, the idea that crystallized reading Alvardo was that one should use or not use substances to alter perception, a topic that frequent readers will note is one of this blog's animating ideas.  Almost all of the ideas that grab me these days, from Buddhism to string theory to magic to whatever, speak to man's limited ability to perceive reality in his normal state and his potential to transcend these limitations and grasp reality more fully.  To me, any effort that changes my normal practice with minimal foreseeable negative consequences is worth the effort.

Well, what's more normal for me than drinking?  I've been going out and having a pint ever since it was legal to do so, and I don't really know what my body and my mind and my soul are like without the limited amount of alcohol I do consume.  Can I handle awkward social situations without liquid courage?  Will cutting back on booze improve my yoga, my meditation, my gnosis, and my learning?  Does alcohol have positive effects that I take for granted but will become aware of in their absence?

I have no intention whatsoever of cutting out all alcohol now or ever.  There are too many things to love, and I will never pass up scotch with my lady or cocktails at the Velvet Tango Room or Kirin Lights with Jimmy and Beav or Untappd check ins or...well, any time that is special, and feels like the use of alcohol will push me towards the kind of freer mind and body that I am trying to develop.

But give up alcohol as part of day-to-day life and see what happens?  Yeah, that's something that very well may shift my perspective.  Sign me up.

Still D.R.E.

Given that my readership pre-hiatus was, uh, just my friends, I don't think I need to spend much time explaining why I was on hiatus.  I moved to Cleveland.  I took a job crunching numbers with Cleveland Metropolitan School District.  My whole life flipped.

Well, not the whole life.  Some things stayed the same.  I still love my family.  I still went camping with the homies.  I still date the best woman on the planet. I still dig Terry Riley.  I still watched good triumph over evil.  I still almost have pincha mayurasana. All of these constants have been tremendous comfort during a time when my life was in upheaval.  

I also try to be mindful of these constants as constants as much as possible now because there's a great lesson about how little concepts like "change" and "constancy" mean.  I've changed jobs and locations, which feels like a lot because it is, but the bedrock of who I am remains blissfully unchanged, for which I am so, so grateful.  But that bedrock is an illusion, too.  All the things in the preceding paragraph--my yoga, my relationships, the kids wearing the Pennridge green--all of it changes constantly.  The second I define it, it changes, and I struggle for words to describe how that feels, because it feels like a koan.

One thing I know for sure: I miss writing.  It's one of the few parts of my old profession that I do miss, and this blog was a great source of personal development and a way to connect with others.  I don't know if I can live up to the blog's name any more, but I am committed to trying to write here as frequently as possible.  Hope you stop by.

The Sky

We only think of blue skies as tranquil, but I tend to think the sky is always tranqu and storm clouds as intruders in the sky.  There's some essential skyness that exists separate from those clouds that retains its tranquility even as the clouds race across.  The sky accepts and embraces the clouds but does not let them disturb its essential skyness.

Probably because the sky is empty and completely full and complete at all times.

The Road Map to Happiness

Elephant Journal has a great article in which Julian Walker discusses the meaning of asana, or the physical practice of yoga.  I can't recommend it enough.

I posted it on Mike Lyons' FB wall.  Like any good yoga teacher, he challenged me, probably without even meaning to.  Specifically, he wondered about my reaction to the comments that maintained that the physical practice of yoga is deeply rooted in ancient Indian tradition, a point with which Walker disagrees.  I reacted on his wall, and I'd like to expand upon what I wrote here.

I tend to think of what happens at places like the Greatest Yoga Studio Ever as the starting point on a treasure map.  It's not the starting point for the quest, of course.  Something got the map into your hands, and nothing has a clean beginning or ending anyway.  But when you go to enough modern US physical yoga class, you start to realize that there is something to this "yoga" thing.  On the most mundane level, your body should feel a whole lot better, but a lot of people can't escape the feeling that yoga offers more than "just" relief from physical pain.

And what happens from there is entirely up to you and your desire to follow the map in pursuit of the treasure.  The map can be hard to follow, but it's all right there.  The physical practice can make you want to meditate, pursue a spiritual teacher, give up meat, live a more compassionate life, and so on and so forth.  I actually do believe that once one comes to view yoga as central to his or her identity, one has taken the first step on a path that can lead to nirvana.

There are some pretty sizable caveats, however.

1. No two people get the exact map or the exact same final destination.
2. Point number 1 means a lot of people are going to make a lot of choices you don't understand.
3. Capitalism has also become pretty damn good at exploiting point number 1 to sell you things that they say should be on your map but probably don't need to be and even shouldn't be.
4. As a consequence of #3, you're going to find yourself struggling with some very unyogic emotions, thoughts, etc. about much of what passes for yoga.
5. Yoga's certainly not the only way to get to your goal.  Buddha would say you're at your final destination right now, and your task is just to get out of your own way.  If that sounds good to you, maybe you should read Buddhism: Plain and Simple rather than going to an asana class.  Maybe you should go for a run.  Maybe you should work on your motorcycle.
6. Why do you need a goal, anyway?

I guess I think the ultimate value of asana is that it's something you do every day for its own sake.  I've come to believe that if you do anything at all long enough and consistently enough, you will do that thing through something like the full range of things we can experience.  You'll rejoice and struggle and, if you're paying attention, learn how to rejoice in the struggle.

The other great thing that asana can give you is its failure.  I will never do every possible pose, and someone will always do better and more poses than me.  Most importantly, consistent asana practice has not and will not solve all my problems.  The great gift here is that realization and the question that accompanies it: "Well, fuck.  Now what?"

That's the most important question there is.

If ashtanga or universal principles of alignment or some other physical practice seem to be moving you forward on your map, ignore everything I just said and keep practicing.  For all I know, I may end up right next to you.  I reserve the right to change my opinion and reject any and all of this in the future.  After all, I have no idea where I am on my map, other than a vague notion that I am moving in the right direction.

Yoga as Identity

When I tell people I do yoga, I'm always surprised at how many of them are apologetic that they, too, do not do yoga, as if failing to do yoga was some type of sin.  After a conversation last week, I think I finally understand this reaction.  The general bobo population may be used to aggressive missionary sermons from yogis about how awesome yoga is.

But that begs another question.  Why would so many yogis care if other people did yoga?  It's hard enough to find a space for your mat at the 5:45 class at the World's Greatest Yoga Studio.

The Babarazzi hit on part of the answer with their hilarious and scathing discussion of asana as signifier.  If my experience is any guide, yoga can become a central part of one's identity very quickly.    The Spectacle recognizes this and has developed numerous ways for yogis to signify to the outside world that they are serious about this yoga thing.  You can practice on your Manduka mat in your Lulu pants and hit Whole Foods for some quinoa on the way home.  The capitalist pig dogs will nod earnestly until you turn around, then chuckle and count the money.  The Spectacle has plenty of non-financial ways to participate, like fancy asanas or (ahem) blogging.  As long as you're worried about whether others regard you as a serious yogi (or a serious sports fan or faberge egg collector or whatever), you're firmly caught in the Spectacle's web, and It's pretty sure you'll eventually buy stuff.

While the Babarazzi nailed the diagnosis, their bedside manner is shit.  The problem with so much cultural criticism is that it's wrapped in so much hipster condescension, as if the authors can't believe that anyone would be so lame as to care what other people think.  Caring what other people think is a natural urge that is essential to any effort to establish community.  Yes, capitalism exploits that urge.  Yes, people fall for the capitalist commodity version of community and everything else over the real thing way, way too frequently.  But, like, shouldn't those of us who recognize that cycle want to help break it?  Shouldn't we want to help people experience the real benefits of yoga, one of which is that you can stop caring so much about hitting a handstand?  If so, snark is a bad idea, because snark alienates.  When I act superior, I am not likely to be heard or respected.

And truth be told, looking down your nose at people who try too hard to show how yoga they are is a pretty effective way to communicate to others how yoga you are.

For whatever my amateur opinion is worth, my answer to both the problem the Babarazzi diagnosed and the problem with the diagnosis is to let go.  You don't need Lulu to practice, and you don't need to condescend to point people on the right path.

And now, for no reason, hilarity.

When You Need Yoga

I haven't been writing about yoga as much lately.  It hasn't been a conscious decision.  Someone who shall remain nameless teased me that TWEDP had turn into a yoga-exclusive blog.  Being a contrarian, I suppose my subconscious could be driving me to write about other things as a way to prove him wrong, but I don't even think that's the case.  For one thing, other stuff has been grabbing my attention.

The bigger issue is that yoga has been relatively tough for me lately.  I've been traveling a lot.  While I'm still keeping up with the physical practice of yoga, I'm doing so at times of the day to which my body isn't accustomed.  Mostly, though, the problem is stress.  On Monday, I move out of my apartment and into the great unknown.  The stress of moving and looking for a job has made asana practice, meditation, and mindful living much more difficult.  My muscles are tight as a drum, and even the best classes at the World's Greatest Yoga Studio fail to fully loosen them up.  Stress is also allowing old insecurities to manifest themselves much more easily, which makes living joy, equanimity, compassion, and kindness much more difficult.

...and I don't know how to make an artful transition to say what I want to say next, which is that I'm incredibly proud of myself.  I recognize how thoroughly terrified I am, and I am doing my best to work with that feeling to get through that feeling.  I'm still on my mat 4-5 times a week, even if I'm having a harder time hitting poses that I generally take for granted.  I'm still sitting down to mediate (almost) every night, even if calming the mind is impossible.  I'm still reading the Sutras (almost) every night before I go to bed.  Life has thrown some fairly significant obstacles at me, but I'm still here.  I'm still present.  I'm still mindful.

All of this makes me recall the guy who showed up for his first yoga class this past Monday.  Our instructor's profound philosophy towards beginner yoga can be summed up with the ancient yogic maxim "sink or swim," so this poor kid got a full-on FSY class.  As we were walking out, he was moving so slowly he could have been limping if I didn't know better, if I didn't know that feeling where every muscle in your body is clenched up and movement seems impossible.

And yet he had the biggest smile on his face.

Word up, kid.  If you keep showing up, so will I.

My Last Nerve

Life (or the God of your choice, if you prefer) puts certain people in your path as growth opportunities.  Think you're nonviolent?  Think you're serene?  Life will give you people who test you.  And with everything else I have going on right now, I do not want to deal with this same...old...issue from the same person.

Deep breaths.  Meditation.  Yoga.  These are my friends.  These can overcome my impatience and my frustration.

Standard disclaimer: the person(s) to whom I am referring is not on Facebook or Twitter and is certainly not reading this blog.  It's not you.  You are wonderful.

Stress and the Future

I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse.  It's a tough time.  No need to go into the details.

This stress comes from worries about the future.  However, I have no doubt that I'm going to keep eating, sleeping under a roof, and doing all the things that are critical to a healthy, full life come July 1st.  There is a zero percent chance I go hungry or homeless.

Instead, my stress comes right from my fears about my self-image.  Specifically, who am I when I'm done at Wake Forest?  How does it affect my status, how others perceive me?  I'm also worried that the next j.o. I take will keep me from doing the things that matter.

Really, the things that are causing my stress are that simple and that inconsequential.  Like, maybe Bryan doesn't need to take such a job.  Or maybe Bryan can quit such a job if he finds it is getting in the way of what matters.  He has a very good friend who did just that, and life worked out just fine for her.  As for status, whatever.  The only people who judge someone by the status of their job are jerks and...me, I guess.

And I don't think I'm a jerk.  Insert smiley face emoticon.

If you're going through a tough time, I recommend you break down what scares you.  A little honesty and introspection can show us that a lot of the fears about the future we have aren't nearly as bad as our heads make them out to be.  Everything that you really want and need is always available to you.

Ben Riggs' latest masterpiece directly influenced this post.  Make 15 minutes to read and digest it.  You'll be glad you did.

The One Path

So I've decided that Buddhism is not for me, at least for now.

I fully accept what I believe to be the Hindu notion that many ways exist to reach heaven, nirvana, the tenth level, Barbelith, whatever you want to call it.  Hermann Hesse said that people who reach such heights will often say things that seem to directly conflict with the teachings of other enlightened ones, but that's only because teachings are words are concepts that cannot possibly express the whole of Truth. It's all one thing.  I believe that with all my heart.

But while the Truth might be singular, I am a flawed finite vessel.  As I've read different versions of the One Truth, I've often found myself more and more confused.  Should I be going through my day with the intention to spread joy, equanimity, compassion, and kindness, or should I strive to be unattached?  What about when I meditate?  Even though that I'm sure an enlightened being knows beyond all doubt that there is no difference between the approaches, I do not.

I recently had a conversation about the necessity of giving one's self over to a teacher.  At the time, I thought we were talking about the need for discipline and the subsuming of one's ego, but now I'm pretty sure that limits are part of that equation.  If all paths lead to the top of the mountain, the only mistake one can make is trying to take multiple paths at once, because then you are always returning to the beginning of the journey.  I'm not claiming this approach is correct for anyone other than me, and I reserve the right to change my approach when the situation dictates.  The Buddha's definitely right that if you hold fast to a fixed doctrine, you will see it fail you eventually.

But for me, now, I need to take one path and look forward to the top of the mountain, where I'll meet people who say completely different things that all mean the same.

Awareness

Just finished Buddhism: Plain and Simple.  Obviously, I'm a beginning scholar of Buddhism, and if you are as well, I highly recommend this book.

One the more interesting parts of the book is the importance of being in the moment.  To hear Steve Hagen tell it, that is the essence of Buddhism, and regardless of my feeling towards Buddhism, it's damn fine advice.

What I figured out today while wandering around the Houston Airport was that being aware of the moment meant that very moment.  I had been evaluating what I was doing once I found myself doing or thinking things that I didn't want.  But that's not it, at least to me, at least now.  The key is to be thinking about the moment and your intent while you go through the day.

A Valentine for You

Having done a lot of gratitude posts lately, I was a little hesitant to go forward with the following concept for Valentine's Day.  I'm also conscious of not blowing up anyone's spot.  I guess it's ok to put people's names in these blog entries, but I do want to respect the privacy of everyone, especially the people for which I am most grateful.

But then I thought again.  The world needs nothing so much as it needs joy, equanimity, compassion, and kindness.  In that spirit, Happy Valentine's Day to everyone, but especially to the following people.  I'm keeping names out of it, but I'll be as specific as I can so you know when you're getting shouted out.

The Anthem.  Get Your Damn Hands Up

• To my family, for everything ever but especially for their support over the last year.
• To my professional colleagues who have stood by me through the last year.  I learned that the upper boundary of the best behavior from caring, dedicated professionals is much higher than I had thought.
• To my friends  who have been with me from the jump.  I could not have made it through without you.
• To my friends who I just connected with over the past year.  You've made life in North Carolina richer and more fun than I thought possible.
• To everyone who has contributed to my yoga practice ever.
• To all the students I have had the pleasure of teaching.
• To the airplanes and internet providers that keep me close with all of the above.
• To the sun, the moon, the sky, the earth, and the spirit.
• To Lindsey Andrews, whose former FB profile pick I've been looking for an excuse to steal for months.  Words to live by.

All Tomorrow's Parties

Yesterday, I finished an article, did some job stuff, and worked on some student council stuff.

Tomorrow, I will start an article, do some job stuff, and work on some student council stuff.

Today, however, I will relax and try to listen.

Thanks to Jane and Lori for the image.