Tag Archives: My Story

The Meaning Of Life

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As I have mentioned before, I am a seeker.  I have always wondered about the hard stuff.  Is there really a god?  Does that teacher really know what he is talking about?  How many subatomic particles are there?  Why is the human brain so complex?  Why is the universe expanding in defiance of gravity?  Why do Republicans exist?  What is the difference between eukaryotes and prokaryotes and how can prokaryotes have flagella?

Vegetarian animals have their eyes more to the side of their heads in order to see predators, who have their eyes in front to see prey.  Therefore, should humans always be carnivorous?  What about biblical prophesy?  Are these the last days?  Is existential despair the true human condition?  Is there enough time left to reverse global warming?

Do you see what I mean?  I have lots of questions and not many answers.  In my college days an art major and I were scrubbing wax off the baseboards in the student center during semester break.  I asked him about the meaning of life as artists always have a different vision about the nature of things.  His reply?  “ Everything is what it is.”  We’ll, yes, but not very satisfying.   Artists look and render what they see.  I look and wonder why?

This defect of my character has led me to seek out those people and traditions who purport to know the answers.  I was raised a nominal Methodist.  I found only felt figures on a felt board.  I did like the doxology, but hated the jello salads in the basement.

I had a profound period of existential despair after my mother’s death my junior year of high school.  Camus, the Blues, and Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony.   Being afraid of girls was no help at all.

The winter of my senior year I was the wrestling team manager.  I wasn’t much of an athlete (another reason for existential despair) so the wrestling team was great fun.  I was able to help and even make a difference.  The scourge of wrestlers is boils.  Sliding on those mats means abrasion, and bacteria find their way into the skin.  Evil, those boils.  As  team manager,  I insured there were no  boils because I kept the mats disinfected.  No pus and blood on my watch.

There it is, the answer to despair.  Stay engaged.  I prevented boils, Camus enjoyed success with the ladies.  There is almost always a way.  Still, I sought.  On a wrestling trip to Salt Lake I bumped up against the Mormons.  I read, studied, listened, even dated a Mormon girl.  One night during an attack of angst I realized I didn’t believe in that stuff.

I then embarked on a career as an agnostic, annoying all the believers I knew by challenging their beliefs.  I continued my search with little success for quite a few years.  I think I substituted addictions for having any meaning.  If you are getting off, the need to keep it up takes over, even while knowing addiction is fruitless.  I had read Kerouac.

Then, during a dark night of the soul after a divorce, I was living in a basement apartment in Lasalle Colorado with my black dog.  I was working in the Greeley sewage disposal plant and the Maintenance Foreman was a deacon in an Assemblies Of God Church.  I went to his bible study, prayed, and got saved.  I asked Jesus in and felt this overwhelming feeling of being wrapped in love.  I got involved, had many experiences of the Holy Spirit, the addictions went away for a year, and I thought I had found the Meaning.

But, life interfered, as well as knowing all that Fundamentalist stuff made no sense.  I couldn’t stay with the holy rollers and ended up an Episcopalian.  For me, my higher power manifests as Jesus.  I couldn’t, however stay with the organized church.  Churches are instruments of power and control, contrary to what Jesus taught.  I did learn how to pray, and prayer is what grounds me.  No answers to the Big Question, however.In fact, I think I have given up on finding the Meaning.  It’s a mystery.

These days I practice Insight Meditation with all its Buddhist trappings.  The good thing about Buddhism is that it does not purport to answer those questions.  I fact, the Buddha mostly ignored all that stuff, saying the sole goal is to end suffering.  With our big brains, we look for reasons.  We think up explanations or buy into someone else’s explanation and create a world.  Almost always the core of that world is desire.  We want stuff, pleasure, a sense of belonging.

No way, dude.  It is all illusion.  Let it go and find emptiness.  That emptiness harbors the true meaning, a sense of being one with the Universe.  Well, I think so, anyway.  I haven’t even come close.  Maybe I need a Bodhi tree to meditate under.

My meditating has borne fruit.  I am finding equanimity.  I am less frustrated.  I am less angry.  I don’t feel as much despair.  I have periods of true happiness.  My addictions are losing their grip, especially if I do my part in my daily practice.  Can’t tell you about the meaning of the cosmos, but my cosmos is more peaceful.

 

Posted in Addiction, Bible Prophesy, Buddhism, Existential Despair, Happiness, Insight Meditation, Jesus, My Story, Stories, Suffering

Lovingkindness

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We seem to be living in a world seething with hate.  It is always there, but currently it is more visible.  Our president wants adulation and to punish those who oppose him.  Everyone has a part of themselves who wants to do harm, usually because harm was done to them.  There is another way.

We are born with a need to be loved, to be fed, cuddled, protected, and allowed to grow.  A baby receiving those things responds with smiles, giggles, and joy.  The caregiver experiences joy as well.  The response to abuse is to withdraw and develop defenses for survival.  The capacity for love and joy can be lost.  We are all wounded to some degree and the result is conflict.

The response to love and nurturing is a desire to love and nurture in response.  We are born that way.  The word for it is lovingkindness.  All the anger and resentment is learned, a response to abuse.

My task is to increase lovingkindness and equanimity and allow the negativity to wither.  My techniques are Insight Meditation and Metta.  Metta is the practice of holding all living beings in prayer or lovingkindness.  “May all sentient beings be happy, may they be safe, may they be free.”  “May Mr. Trump be safe, may he be happy, may he be free and practice lovingkindness in his life.”   “May the driver who just gave me the finger be happy, safe, and free.”  I actually do this.  Not always, I still harbor old wounds, but my Metta practice is growing.

I feel better, am less angry, and don’t honk or give the other driver the finger nearly as much.  Buddha came up with this 2500 years ago, even though he didn’t drive, and those who practice lovingkindness are a powerful force for good which often goes unrecognized.  All the faith traditions encourage this in some way.  Yes, there are happy and loving people out there.

So, what about all those with anger and hate?  It’s our task to show them lovingkindness, as simple as smiling and allowing them to make that left turn.  We also deal directly with the negativity by listening and showing respect, gently offering a more caring viewpoint.  We help those in need, always with dignity and respect.  When angry, we breathe in, breathe out, pause, rinse and repeat.

I guess I am something of a Buddhist, but Jesus is still in my life, and always will.  A bit about Buddhism.  It has all the trappings of an Eastern faith tradition.  Saffron robes, chants, meditation, stupas and gilded  Buddhas, with one big difference.  Buddhism is nontheistic.  No worshipping some Big Guy.  The sole purpose is to end suffering.  Most often greed, or desire, is the root of suffering.  We can be in terrible pain but suffering is optional.

We decide we need something.  We make that up.  All we need is food, clothing, and shelter.  All the rest comes from craving, wanting to fill a hole that can’t be filled that way.  We might feel a bit better, but the desire always returned.    What to do? Let go. Meditate.  Practice lovingkindness.  Do lots of Metta.  Maybe I will get better at all that.

Posted in Buddha, Buddhism, Dharma, Lovingkindness, Meditation, Memoirs, Prayer, Stories, Suffering

Unexpected Happiness

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Most people assume happiness comes from material things, especially in our consumer culture.  Not so, folks.  Happiness comes not from craving but from compassion and loving kindness.  I am an expert on craving.  Currently, my main craving is for ice cream.  I think about ice cream, I long for it.  I score!  I eat ice cream and have a fleeting feel good.  Then it starts all over.  I am suffering desiring the temporary fix that creamy, sweet, fatty stuff provides.

There are two main results.  I feel that discontent of no ice cream, eat ice cream, feel contented for an hour or so, than resume craving.  I am also getting fat.

There is another way.  Do good and feel good.  The good feeling doesn’t go away.  We are wired to help one another.  It comes from feeling compassion for someone who is suffering.  We then act out of loving kindness. The person suffering feels better and so do we.  They are feelings that don’t go away.

Many philosophers and economists say we operate on the pleasure principle.  Most of them assume pleasure results from satisfying craving.   The marketers exploit the craving and tell us happiness comes from the right beer, or car, or toothpaste.  In fact, they are exploiting suffering.

For the first part of my life I operated on that false pleasure principle.  I wanted stuff, temporary sensual gratification, alcohol, and ice cream.  I was something of a melancholy, trying to fill a void in my soul.  I then met the love of my life.  I was happy with her and looked forward to sharing satisfying cravings with her.  Food, stuff (lots of stuff), the mountains, the desert, canoeing, road trips, all those fleeting pleasures.

It turned out the love of my life is sick.  She has lupus, and can’t do many of the things I thought were the main goals of my life.  We can’t do road trips, she can’t be in the sun very long, she doesn’t have much energy, and she hurts.  All those fantasies exploded.

One of the benefits for me in meeting the love of my life is my commitment to her.   For better or for worse.  I cook.  I clean.  I do the heavy work of gardening, including maintaining that blasted sprinkling system.  I do Jin Shin Jyutsu(Japanese acupressure) three times a week I do shopping.  I lift, carry, move, assemble, and help in any way I can.  I scratch her back, we snuggle, we talk, laugh, and get cranky with one another.

Her family members have more trouble than they deserve.  I drove to Minneapolis to help her brother when his leg was broken by an errant automobile.  He has no support system there, so I went and helped out.  Her parents got old and infirm.  We visited Florida and North Carolina to help out.  We had lots of trips to Florida.  Her dad moved here when he could no longer handle the tasks of daily living.  Her mother moved to Boise to be with Carol’s sister and we visited there.  I also act as support for Carol’s two children, especially her son.

Blue Earth

All that seems like drudgery, inconvenience, and suffering.  Not so.  It is fulfilling.  I like to help, even if it means hundreds of miles of corn and soybeans on the way to Minneapolis.  Have you ever seen the blue earth clay west of Mankato (means blue earth) or the Nebraska sand hills?  Have you gotten lost on foot in downtown Minneapolis?  If not, you have really missed out.  The whole thing feels good.  Well, there is some inconvenience as well, but it is mostly happiness.   May you find happiness in helping others.

Posted in Addiction, Caregiving, Craving, Happiness, Lovingkindness, Stories, Suffering

Spring

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It’s Spring and the miracles are happening once again.  The grass is growing, the trees have leaves, the flowers are out, and the sprinkling system is all goofed up.

Carol started seedlings months ago and now they are going in the ground.  She asks me to put more water on the chard.  I can’t tell chard from kale.  She rolls her eyes and shows me where.

Winter is hard on sprinkler systems, especially the drip systems supposed to save water.  They get stepped on, kicked, blow apart, and just break.  I get soaked hunting down leaks and missing fittings.  I just discovered a new type of stake with sprinklers built in that may help.  We’ll see.

It’s getting harder to do all the fixing.  Sprinklers don’t work, but some of my parts aren’t in very good shape as well.  I have trouble getting up and down.  My knees hurt.  My back hurts.  I have trouble pressing tubing on fittings with my arthritic wrists.  I am getting lots of practice groaning.  Every year I have to splice the underground hoses because I chop into them with the shovel or axe.

Pulaski

Yes, the axe.  We have trees and shrubs and they have roots.  Right now I am in the process of replacing rock edging with bricks to make mowing easier.  Problem is, it is right next to a maple tree.  Did you know maples have shallow root systems?  I chop the roots with a Pulaski, a wildland firefighting tool with an axe on one side and a grubbing hoe on the other side.  It works well, but that big head is heavy.  I chop for a short time, stop to catch my breath, and chop again.  Carol has suggested I mark where the brick line is to go because my line wavers trying to miss the big roots.  What I have finished looks a lot better than rocks, however.

It’s worth it.  The yard and garden are beautiful, I get exercise, Lowe’s makes money selling me parts, and we will get lots of good stuff to eat.  The spring produce is mostly leafy greens, so I have to eat salads.  The evil woman even sneaks kale into the salads.

The Japanese Beetle War continues.  We applied milky spore to the lawn which is supposed to infect the grubs and kill them.  There is also a chemical grub product that’s only mildly poisonous.  The grubs eat the grass roots, killing it, then pupate and hatch the beetles when hot weather arrives.  The bare spots in the lawn are recovering and we may have a few less Beetles.  If only all the neighbors would do the same thing.

We also have a new rechargeable hand vacuum to suck the little demons off the leaves.  Leaves.  The creatures eat some leaves and ignore others.  They love many roses, ignore others, and love grape leaves.  They like linden tree leaves, but our tree is big and robust.  So much for our grape arbor over the patio.   We are investigating alternatives.  It’s good they don’t eat everything, or we would have to eat them.

In the meantime, beauty reigns.  The raspberry bushes are springing up, flowers are out, and the veggies are growing away.  We also are going to have peaches.  We had three frosts when the tree was blooming, but the frost mostly did a good job of thinning the fruit.

Posted in Gardening, Japanese Beetles, My Story, Spring, Spring Flowers, Stories

Puppies and Kittens

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I was lamenting the current political situation with someone recently.  She says she spends down time looking at videos and pictures of puppies and kittens. She mostly avoids the news.  My approach is quite different.  I look at car crashes in Russia, high speed chases in     L. A., eruptions, earthquakes, forest fires, burning and collapsing buildings, and urban shootouts.

I do look at cute cat and dog stuff, but end up watching violent cat fights and cats chasing dogs.  What is wrong with me?  Yes, horrible things are being done by and to our government, but will my preoccupation with it all is not gonna do much good out there.  I have always been a news junkie, so maybe all this is unavoidable.  But, even my humor is turning black.  I like to tell old jokes, but even they are about some variety of mayhem.

Do you know about the Polynesian King who had just made a pact with a neighboring king to stop all the stealing and poaching that had been going on for years.  To celebrate, the neighboring king gave him an ornate hand carved throne.  The king had it installed in the Great hall of his thatched palace and had his old throne stored upstairs.  One day he was on his new throne and the old throne came cracking down from the thatched ceiling and killed him.  The moral is “People who live in grass houses shouldn’t stow thrones.”

I hadn’t thought about that joke in years, but this morning it came bubbling up out of my unconscious.  I told the story to my wife and it ruined our morning tea and chat session.  So the mess out there is creating an internal mess.  What to do?  I have only managed to get halfway through The Princess Bride, and I did Harry Potter last fall.  Is it time to reread Tolkien or should I give in and read Faust and Neitzsche?

The dark side of the Force seems to be upon me.  Yoda always told Luke to not give in to hate and rage.  My new pen and pencil holder is a Darth Vader coffee cup.  I guess I haven’t taken the message to heart.  I think I need a road trip.

Posted in Agression, Cats, Current Activities, Depression, Humor, Obsession, Stories

Hair

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Bald

Hair is part of my everyday consciousness, because I am mostly bald.  It started going when I was 27, plugging the shower drain every day.  I don’t have to worry about now.  I have fun with my lack of hair: men go bald because their brains push the hair out.  There are lots of other bald jokes, most of them dirty.  There is lots of humor about baldness because bald people are trying to escape from their trauma.

It is an ongoing ego blow.  Bald as an egg, chrome dome, cue ball, baldylocks, slick, it goes on.  We are a beleaguered population.  Then there is the discrimination.  It’s mostly unconscious, but people with good hair tend to get selected over the bald.  Just look at today’s  politicians. There are exceptions, but it is a distinct advantage to be telegenic these days.

For example, I once had a boss who was good looking with a nice shock of sandy hair.  When the Water Department was expanding, he was promoted to maintenance supervisor.  He did a fair job at that due to his mechanical skills.  His next promotion was to Plant Supervisor, responsible for running a big water plant with a staff of over twenty.  An affable guy, he did well in meetings and interactions as long as he didn’t have to think.  Problem was, he was only semi literate, unable to compose a coherent paragraph.  It eventually caught up with him and he was lateraled aside into a make-work job and eventually retired.  Good hair will only get you so far.

Look at our presidents.  Eisenhower was bald, but people believed he won World War II for us.  All the other recent presidents had hair.  Our current President, consistent with everything else, has a parody of good hair, wound around his head and dyed yellow.  He is so vain and out of touch with reality he thinks his hair looks good.  Oh, and it is all his.

Hair for women is even more important.  Many older women have thinning hair and go to some lengths to conceal the fact.  Women bald from chemotherapy have their hats scarves, and wigs.  Only a few have the courage to venture forth with a shiny head.  There are women who intentionally go bald.  It’s a guaranteed way to stand out in a crowd.  Also, there are some men who find bald women sexy.  They do have that stubble, however.  If a woman gets a little loopy and takes her hair off, the baldness is the lead headline and photograph.  Britney Spears earned permanent fame for shaving her head.  You have to be crazy to do that, right?

So, be sure to have some sympathy for those of us with shiny heads.  We are another beleaguered and often derided minority.  I often speak to people with really good hair if we can work out some sort of a deal on an exchange but no one has ever taken me up.  Sad.

Posted in Baldless, Hair, My Story, Stories

More on Japanese Beetles

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It is early to discuss Japanese Beetles, the grubs are still lurking amid the grass roots in your lawn.  Here in South Denver we will be heading into our fourth season of the attacks.  They eat roses, grape leaves, linden, peach leaves, buckthorn, Virginia creeper, and raspberry bushes, to list our victims.  The beetles emerge with the hot weather and stick around until sometime in August.  Then the battle begins.

There are limited methods of control, but our grape arbor is doomed.  I conduct a summer long counterattack, using neem oil, soap spray, and physical removal.  I grab the little bastards and drown them in soapy water.  I am supposed to be practicing the Buddhist principle of not harming living beings, but watching the evil bugs struggling in the water is satisfying.

Last evening we went to a meeting organized by the Colorado State University Extension service on the scourge.  It was held in one of the old boathouses in Washington Park, now occupied by Outdoor Colorado.  There is a nice conference room which easily accommodates a couple of dozen people.  About 100 people showed up.  There were people sitting on the floor and standing along the walls.  Overflow went out the door.  It got hot and stuffy.

When the beetles first showed up, we went to CSU Extension, not far away.  Back then we mostly got unknowing shrugs.  Last season, the presenter said almost every call was about beetles.  They had to do some fast learning.  Another impetus for them was watching their flower garden be almost wiped out.

Our own research covered most of the information given in the meeting, there were a few new things and more information about what does not work.  For grapes and most of the vulnerable annuals, resistance is futile.  Grapes and Virginia Creepers are over.  Our linden tree gets lots of destroyed leaves, but it is robust enough to take the damage in stride.

Hand Held Vacuum

With the other stuff, it’s a fight.  Going around with a bowl and stick knocking them into the water is tedious, but works.  The best suggestion we got is to use a cordless dust buster.  Expanding on that, I will try the leaf gathering function on the leaf blower.  The collection bag might get nasty, but they say crushing the beetles doesn’t attract others.

The most important takeaway from the meeting is how many other people are just as angry and obsessed as I am.  I guess Japanese Beetles have become my teachers.  I get the chance to work on obsession, resentment, and hate.

Posted in Beetles, Buddhism, Gardening, Japanese Beetles, My Story, Obsession, Pestilence, Stories

Counterattack

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The two recent pieces I wrote and posted here amount to something of an epiphany.  I have been aware of my addictions and history of sexual abuse and practiced the additions for most of my life.  What came to me while writing them is the realization I have long had a reliable way to deal with the addictions: Pray.

Prayer

I have been praying for years, starting with my conversion.  Praying has continued because it works.  I have known praying works on addiction for all those years.  Problem is, I knew it works but only practiced it intermittently.  Cunning, baffling, powerful.

Insight meditation has enhanced my praying and gives me more focus while praying.  The goal is to clear out the mental clutter I used to survive in a sometimes dangerous world.  Along with developing survival skills, I also create my own world.  Some of our worlds may be congruent with reality, sometimes not.  It takes lots of energy to maintain the personal world, and I am constantly revising and enhancing what is actually an artificial construct.

My inner world is filled with stories about what is going on, what happened, and guesses about the future.  In the process of creating all this, I ignore the present.  All those creations are the basis for my addiction.  The now, right now, is not.  So, it’s only logical to stay in the moment.  It ain’t easy, folks.  I have many years of reinforcement to stay with the mostly imaginary world I created.

I can get to the now in meditation and prayer.  It is said meditation can aid one in staying in the moment most of the time.  It’s called enlightenment.  Watch the breath.  When mind wanders, return to the breath.  Repeat.  I am not enlightened, although I strive to go there.  My mind wanders.  A lot.

I can, however, pray, which is an alternate way of staying in the moment.  Another word for prayer is mantra.  “Om mani padme hum”.  It can be a collection of Sanskrit phrases or English words transmitted by a teacher.  in my case I don’t know my teacher’s name.  He is a long dead Russian peasant who became a pilgrim seeking his teachers in Russian monasteries.  In his travels he used an ancient Orthodox Christian prayer known as the Jesus Prayer.  “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.”  He suggested starting with 3000 repetitions daily.  With sufficient practice, it is possible to synchronize the prayer with the heartbeat.  This means constant prayer.  How is that for staying in the moment?  His book is entitled The Way of a Pilgrim.

I may have reached 3000 a few times.  I have never synchronized the prayer with my heartbeat.  I do synchronize with my breath.  After writing those two pieces about addiction and spirituality, I had a solid week of prayer, peace, and freedom from addiction.  What a glorious time!  Once I had a year of respite.

Oops! Here came the counterattack.  In these cases, it’s nearly a total absence of prayer and almost constant addictive obsessing along with acting out.  You Tube is a great aid in distracting myself from the moment and reinforcing obsessions.  During this current counterattack I had a dream about finding myself in a room with baggage stacked to the 20 foot high ceiling. That’s my world-lots of baggage.  So, what to do?  One way I have found is to open up about what is going on and not isolate.  Remember George Thorogood singing “When I drink alone, I want to be by myself.”?  That is my addiction mantra.

“Confession is good for the soul.”  Here is my confession.  Now maybe I can get back to prayer.

Posted in Addiction, Alcohol, Buddhism, Current Activities, Insight Meditation, Jesus Prayer, Meditation, My Story, Obsession, Prayer, Sexual Abuse, Stories

Treating Pain

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My life has changed because of two stories I heard on NPR.  Remember the classic study of the rat in a cage with two water bottles, one with an opioid, the other plain water.  The rat always chose the drugged water?  Well, another researcher duplicated the study but instead of a bare cage, it was rat friendly.  Places to explore, to dig, to run around, and interact with other rats.  The rats ignored the drug laced water, going for plain water.

The other story is about the Vietnam heroin problem.   About 20% of the GIs there used heroine.  It turned into a major problem.  When those heroin users came home, 95%of them quit heroin without treatment.  The reason for the heroin use in both cases was the desire of the subjects to feel good in a bad situation.  Would you want to be a lone rat in a barren cage?  A soldier in the Vietnam war?

Heroin

Those stories reminded me of what a guy said in a twelve step meeting.  “I want to get my feel good.”   People turn to addicting substances or behaviors in order to feel better.  Lots of people out here don’t feel good for a multitude of reasons.  They turn to food, compulsive exercise, drugs,, internet gaming, gambling, sex, or booze.  It’s the pleasure-pain principle.

When I was fifteen I started drinking.  My buddies and I stole hubcaps for the thrill.  I climbed rocks and canyon walls for excitement.  I always wanted to go just a bit faster or jump higher on my motorcycle.  I smoked three packs of cigarettes a day to stave off the craving.  Anything to feel good or not feel bad.

My early years were troubled.  I had undiagnosed ADD which tended to lead me into trouble.  I was a somewhat lonely only child.  In adolescence I was not a good athlete, had bad acne, and was afraid of girls.  I also had a history of abuse.  I turned to alcohol and risky behavior.  Later, I bought marijuana by the quarter pound.

A tremendous amount of my awareness is consumed by craving, staving craving off, indulging the craving, or obsessing about craving.  I think it’s called addiction.  Addiction has ruled my life to some degree since puberty.  I know I am not alone.  I have been in therapy for years, take my ADD medication, doing 12 step work again, and do lots of prayer and insight meditation.  Slowly it is working.

I will always be an addict.  What is saving me is spirituality.  After a lifetime of searching I have found what works for me.  It is Buddhism with Jesus at the center.  In Buddhism, emptiness-letting go of the thinking self-is the way to the emptiness and true consciousness of being.  For me it is asking Jesus to take the craving and suffering.  2000 years ago he offered to take all our suffering and leave us whole.  I take him up on the offer many times every day.  It works.

Jesus was a man.  He died, but for some reason his spirit lives in me.  I can turn to his spirit to take my pain and leave me whole.  This has always worked for me since I learned about it, but I have often walked away.  Addiction is cunning, baffling, powerful.  It takes lots of work to stay on the path.  (All these biblical references keep coming up).  I had a profound spiritual experience based on turning my life over to Jesus.  I have often walked away from him, but he is there when I come back.

The Buddhist way is taking refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma (Buddha’s teachings), and the Sangha (the spiritual community.  For me it is taking refuge in Jesus, the gospel and the dharma, and the faith community.  It gains strength every Day.  I have to avoid getting tangled up in doctrine.  It’s about letting go and giving it to Jesus.

“Lord Jesus Christ, son of God.  Have mercy on me, a sinner”.  My prayer.

Posted in Addiction, Buddha, Buddhism, Heroin, Insight Meditation, Jesus, Jesus Prayer, Meditation, My Story, Obsession, Pain, Stories, Suffering

Pain

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Pain

Pain, suffering, anxiety, fear, discontent, hate, sadness, on and on.  We have lots of names for conditions making life difficult for people.  Let’s lump them together under suffering.  All the world’s faith traditions offer either solace or hope.  Some offer healing.  The healing even works sometimes.

With the possible exception of pain, all the conditions creating suffering have the same origin-us.  All we really need are food, clothing, and shelter.  Everything else is desire, things created in our minds.  “Make it go away.”  There are more strategies for making it go away than there are people on the planet.

The strategies do offer some solace.  Another beer, a horror movie, ice cream, new car, getting laid.  Problem is, the craving always returns.  So, do it again.  And again.  Try something else, maybe jumping out of an airplane will work.  What about Everest?  Running a corporation, getting elected. Trying a long kiss in the stairwell and an affair.  We spend our lives trying to satisfy desire.  All the wise ones offer a supposed cure, usually requiring some degree of sacrifice in pursuit of deliverance.

Often, the sacrifices have to be repeated because the ones asking for a sacrifice are attempting satisfy their own cravings.  It don’t work, folks.  All the attempts at gratification just feed the craving.  Thus, we have a world of suffering.  It’s the wrong approach.

Now, I am going to tell you what to do.  Problem is, I am also trapped on the wheel of desire.  I know the technique works because I have experienced it in my life, once for as long as a year.  It’s simple, let go of desire.  No desire, no suffering.  Bad things still happen, but they don’t result in suffering if the desire is gone.

We all have in our core a condition of pure being, absent of all the world’s clutter.  The task is getting back there.  As we are in a body, to stay alive we must satisfy the body’s needs.  It means  going to school, working, forming associations and partnerships.  All this is hard work and we build our own little mental world and fill it with needs.

Let it go, give it up, just breathe without thinking and you will begin to rediscover the place in the center of your being. Now, do what I say, not what I do.  I built my own little ego world and constantly strive to keep it satisfied.  Sometimes while meditating I am able to enter the peaceful state.  Other times, all I do is think, often about what to write about not thinking.

When I am having a hard time letting thinking go I pray.  I pray for myself, for others. For the earth.  Prayer takes me away from my self.  I stop praying and am sometimes able to re-enter the empty space.  Often all I can do is pray.  And pray.

I think choosing a prayer is a personal, private thing.  It can be a mantra, a quote from the dharma, a prayer of thanks or for mercy.  It can come from any faith tradition or none.  It doesn’t seem to matter where the prayer is directed.  It doesn’t have to be directed anywhere.  What is important is the act of praying, of getting outside of the cluttered world where we spend most of out time.

The next time I meditate it can be easier to enter that space of peace.  Or not.  I used to say writing is the hardest thing to do.  Now I think it is meditation.  How to be without striving, without suffering, without escaping.

I think I will go to the store and then meditate.

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