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Your glass is full and empty of red wine. Or are you concerned about the empty bottle — do you make decisions based on substance or essence?

11/24/2013

I was sitting having a drink with a friend and we were discussing one of my previous posts, My Tuesday Evening with Living Death (https://medium.com/what-i-learned-today/b52afdfc281) where I address this idea of having a full heart. We were also discussing a previous conversation we had about how in order to make room for change (personal, social, whatever), one must “make space” or “empty their cup.” For example, to start adding different things to a routine such as working out, one simply cannot just start going to the gym, some part of their old routine must die, such as watching a TV show.

My friend mentions something that irks me about how the metaphor I describe about how our hearts must be “full” in order to look at other hearts and form constructive relationships. I thought that this seemed exclusionary as we just had a discussion about how one must make space for change and it got me thinking.

Really, what I meant to say is that hearts must be empty — and full.And if something could be empty and full at the same time, does that mean they are the same thing?

So I look at a glass on the table that is about three-quarters full of red wine and being to stumble through an explanation of how emptiness and fullness is really the same thing. In essence, each of them implies a fullness of something. If something is completely empty, it is full of nothing. If something is full, it is full of something. Is full of nothing the same thing as full of something?

Yes, in essence. If you disagree you are choosing to focus on the substance rather than the essence.Is a glass full of red wine the same thing as an empty glass of red wine — no, not in form because there is substance in one that changes the physical composition of the glass. However, does that mean that an empty glass still lacks fullness? No, it lacks fullness of red wine; it still is very, very full. It’s full just of something we can’t quite see or feel as easily.

So if we begin to look at the self and how we treat and view others, any emphasis on the red wine can easily overlook the essence of the sameness.

A fun exercise:Ask yourself if you choose to focus on the red wine or truly experiencing the essence of the sameness, it’s your choice.Caveat: this doesn’t give license to behave like a total pacifist, acting out of essence takes many forms, confrontation is a necessary part of living because if we don’t have that, expect to be in a lot deeper shit in 20 years.

Tuesday Evening with Death: a Buddhist Perspective

11/7/2013

Recently an old elementary school friend’s mother died. We were not super close so my folks found it sort of strange that I was so compelled to go to her funeral. I know why I want to go, although I was kinda ashamed to tell my mother. She was trying to figure it out and I finally just blurted out “I wanna be a part of it.” For some reason I so badly wanted to go and witness this celebration of life.

The last time I went to this new-age Baptist-rooted mega church, one of the 6 different locations, the pastor went on a 30 minute rant about how even though my friend’s father died by suicide, there was still hope that he would go to heaven because Danny had expressed his devotion to Christ to the pastor several months prior — there is nothing to worry about. I had trouble staying in my seat for that. However, the husband of the deceased woman spoke at that funeral and delivered a beautiful message.

I wanted to go, support, and witness the humanity that is death. Before the service I didn’t know exactly why and after a solid hour of tears and sternum-shuttering waves, I now know why.

I sat down in in the large sanctuary and chuckled while looking at fully-stocked stage. Church sure has changed from the pews and stuffy choral arrangements as trendy early 30-year-old professed holy worship to Jesus using hundreds of thousands of dollars of equipment. I really did try non-judgment throughout the songs and I was grateful the pastor came up and delivered a beautiful message. Throughout his words I caught myself off in distracted land about things he said, people around me, or who would see me, or what I would say to old friends and finally the thought “what if she was your mother?” broke through the chatter.

I was utterly overcome with sadness that welled up seemingly from my chest and the floor. Then I caught myself saying “you don’t have to feel that way, she’s not your mother.” This would offer me a temporary solace from the sadness as I could detach from the immediate experience. Some old Buddhist meditations on compassion kicked in and the line “love everyone as your mother” made me remember that it’s ok to feel this sadness. I sat in it. I let it melt the sides of my ribs and crack my breastbone as I surrendered further and further to the intense sadness that was the death of this woman, whom I probably met 3 times and never spoke to, who was not my mother and in every way very much my mother.

The tears poured as I shook in divine celebration that I was capable of feeling something this deep. I was capable of experiencing sadness, surrendering, and moving deeper into this feeling. Sure the mind inhibited my ability to experience the flow of the moment several times with petty thoughts and my meditation training allowed me to let those go and more fully surrender to the feeling and sensation of this most beautiful celebratory moment.

I was deeply sad sitting unaccompanied, head down, emptying my cup into the experience that was. Speaker after speaker delivered powerful words that would pulsate and throb through all open audience members bringing tons of people to tears. I can honestly say I have never notice as many people crying at a funeral in my life and I have been to many funerals.

This one however, I was trained, I knew how to feel and I was leveled by the humanity, beauty, and divinity swirling in the room.

I left feeling incredibly calm, connected, and relieved. As I sat in my car, I thought about how lucky I was to attend. I experienced a profound beauty in the sadness. I realized how I wasn’t really that connected to this individual so I was like a free-loader on all the celebration, compassion, and humanity from the people. Almost completely unattached to the individual, I sat motionless in the sanctuary allowing the divine celebration that is sadness to move through me. I realized that sadness is not at all painful. Sadness is recognition of joy lost, and in recognition of joy lost, there is recognition of the joy that once was. The joy that once was made possible by this wondrous human being.

I almost felt guilty to be able to derive this much relief and hope for life out of this experience while I know others are going through profound pain from this loss. I however felt no pain at all. Looking back, I realized the grief is what causes the pain. The yearning for the familiar, the questioning of “why” or “why me,” the anger, those feelings of attachment are what cause the pain. The misunderstood concept of death seemingly rips infinitely intertwined beings apart and that cry for things to be like they were, the gravity of true aloneness or abandonment, feelings of incompleteness; that attachment to comparison is what causes the pain that reaches down your throat, strangle, and tear the heart out beyond the grasps of understanding previously known.

Many then extend arms and reach out into the abyss. Constantly and timidly placing hands around looking for a full heart to help repair their own, because after all, the heart was ripped out and therefore one must look outside to find a full heart to replace it with.

In actuality, the thing that reached down the throat was the self attached to the conditions (any noun really) that created that feeling of what once was, what was familiar and comforting. The attachment is in fact the same arm that reaches out into the abyss searching for other “whole” hearts. That arm is the very thing that separates one from their authentic heart. Striving, reaching, searching — all the same, all separating each one from the real conditions of the heart. Recognizing this simple truth is a first step to experiencing divine sadness and rejoicing vs. painful attachment of grief.

Aloneness, do you know what it feels like? A experience Transcending aloneness

11/3/2013

It’s 7:30 pm on a Saturday and I’m sitting alone in my tiny apartment. My girlfriend has a work meeting, I haven’t made any plans with friends, and I don’t really want to leave my home and I have no desire to go amorously wander around the city. The social media and emails are silent. There is no message or phone call to be answered. The apartment is dimly lit and I’m sitting at my counter-top with everything and nothing to do.

Soon a small yearning to be recognized nervously rears up in my chest. It’s a little uncomfortable and I think “what can I do?” I know, I will make some tea. I run over to the stove and make the appropriate preparations for tea. Then that is over and I go back to the computer, again, that tiny but powerful feeling creeps into my heart as I begin to question, “what should I do?” I run through a variety of other activities I can do, watch internet TV — a temptation I am purposefully avoiding, read a book, do some yoga, then the tea pot boils. I excitedly jump up as my services are needed and complete the tea making process. Now, I have tea, I enjoy a few sips and soon thereafter a subtle shaking begins to creep through my ribs and into the center of my body.

Instead of using action to distract myself, I ask “what is this?” I decide to sink a little deeper into my chair and seek to understand this phenomenon. The sensation grows and begins to grip my heart, I feel scared and I realize that what I am feeling is aloneness. It is uncomfortable and part of me wants to run away, however, there is a small courageous part of me that I have trained to be curious about this discomfort. I relax deeper and close my eyes. I begin to explore the conscious interpretation of this sensation as my brain fires “you’re alone!! Get out! Go do something! This isn’t okay!” I decide to ignore this and seek to understand my bodily experience. I feel a distant but familiar vibration in my chest and I tune in. It becomes stronger and my mind fires its occasional reptilian thought to distract the pure awareness of experience.

I continue opening to this sensation and the vibrational strength grows. Soon I realize my whole body is gently rocking back and forth and I feel a wave of utter submission rinse over and empty the stress, tension, and fear. I notice my heart and tune into each beat. I have an overwhelming feeling that I, the body, or heart, is not at all the source of the beating. A wondrous lightness relinquishes responsibility to be and just exist. I acknowledge an ethereal force kindly molding or messaging my organs as the causer of my hearts beat. All thoughts, sensations, and feelings of aloneness vanish instantaneously. Simple joy spreads across my face and body as I recognize how blind I was just moments ago to this pervasive and profound realization of connectedness.

Often we are too busy to recognize the momentary interconnectedness of everything. Thoughts and behavioral patterns prevent us from tapping into the ever-present home we have within each of us as we have been programmed to think we are separate. This gap in understanding and awareness is nothing more than a product of our environment and choices. If I did not seek to understand the discomfort and open to the sensation of aloneness, I would have never experienced this simple birthing into connectedness.

Uncertainty, discomfort, suffering, difficulty, it is all just a sign of a learning or teaching that is available to our selves. Rarely does it mean we are going to die, be without food or water or basic sustenance. The amygdala, responsible for our fight or flight response in the brain, has been manipulated by schooling, the media, our culture, and ourselves to react in avoidance with suffering regardless of source. Most often this suffering has nothing to do with our survival needs and we must seek to understand the suffering, open to sensations and potential, and relinquish our needs to control. Basically, it is a simple question of whether or not you are willing to trust the universe, God, Divine Spirit, Oneness, whatever you call it, beyond your own recognition of what is. If you don’t relinquish control of your understanding of what is, you will never grow and know what is not. There are different pain points for everyone ,however the better you can become at recognizing when you are controlling and closing yourself off from a potential experience, the sooner you can let go of your suffering and open to enhanced states of awareness.

Unless you are satisfied with your current perspective and don’t want to explore expanded states of awareness and consciousness, then don’t do anything mentioned above.

Greetings

Here are some words from a perspective, some of it old, some new, none false, none true.

Also, check out my Medium page for a different viewing experience:

https://medium.com/@thatMHG

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