A Handbag?!

Yesterday DC and I enjoyed the glorious spring sun walking along the beach from Alnmouth to Boulmer and back. Whilst walking (and reminding ourselves and each other to enjoy the sparkling sea) we discussed thoughts raised by our recent viewing of the BBC's The Great Philosophers (a history of western philosophers in 15 parts). We've not been watching in order but rather selecting episodes which look appealing. We will get round to watching them all I'm sure. The series dates from 1987 and is quite wonderful in its no nonsense, no frills straightforward serious approach. Just two erudite people sitting on a sofa illuminating at a reasonably high level the writings of some of the finest minds. No fancy camera shots, no trips around the globe, no pandering to short attention spans and competing for an audience. Much of our discussion was to reflect that one way or another we're all dancing around the same handbag of the empiricism v idealism conundrum, this ultimately leading through questions of causality towards the question of free will. But we decided to stop short of that question for we had quite done the rounds of something which had made it already a largely irrelevant question. I'd approached the ideas from a Buddhist perspective; interdependent origination which to me, through emptiness (śūnyatā) takes the handbag away.

We stopped at Boulmer and drank tea from a flask and enjoyed my mother's home made cake, which was lovely. That she and my dad are still despite their frailty able to make cake and that we all share so much love despite the inevitable frustrations of life is a constant source of amazement to me.

In the evening we watched the film Pride about the group Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners (LGSM). It's a feel-good movie as opposed to a detailed documentary but I think the take home message is not weakened by that - connection, community, acceptance, care and compassion are what give life joy. And as I write this a phrase which is a favourite of DC's comes to mind - "distinctness without domination, with the distinct participating in each other" by Theodor W. Adorno. For my own part Adorno's “Greyness could not fill us with despair if our minds did not harbour the concept of different colours, scattered traces of which are not absent from the negative whole” reminds me that all my fears and frustrations must surely stem from the beauty of the possible. I should add at this point that I've not read the original works of any of these great thinkers and I'm grateful to those that both have and have produced works that I might appreciate. The film Pride covers the interaction of the LGBT and mining communities, a coming out story and the emergence of the AIDS epidemic. There's a moment when the fictional character Joe 'Bromley' is taken by the hand and kissed in a night club. The scene marks his initiation, is late in the whole story of his involvement with LGSM and is suffused with warmth and the ripening of his coming out. It is sharply contrasted by later scenes of his parents hostile response and the victimisation and queer bashing of other characters. But eventually we see Joe leave the parental home and thus take another step to come home to himself. The sound track to the film is a rich and joyous one and very much in harmony with my own dance inclinations. For me emptiness / śūnyatā doesn't take away our individuality it invites us to truly expand into it. It's an enormous ask - to truly respond with openness to each moment, not to shrink back in greed or fear from what is being asked but to be the living embodiment of the highest potential available to each of us. This is our humanity, our compassion, although it comes with clouds of confusion and fear and is inevitably way bigger than we can grasp or fully meet. To truly live is to dance this koan. It isn't enough to only read philosophy, or think about it in the abstract. Sooner or later we will be faced with the 'chopping wood and carrying water' of our everyday lives. But can we JUST chop the wood and carry the water - FULLY in response to that enormous ask? Can we live each apparent choice of our everyday lives in each arising moment as the bright colours of the distinct dancing with each other in mutual co-operation, support and enjoyment? In our everyday lives we are described by neither empiricism nor idealism, we are suspended between heaven and earth. We must not recoil like Lady Bracknell in Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest exclaiming 'A handbag?!' for we are all in and dancing around the handbags of delusion. Much easier said than done. And even then always with our own little grab bag of karma...

Reflections on ECC New Year retreat

 DC and I spent last week in the lake district on an Edward Carpenter Community new year retreat. I took the following photo just after arriving.

Looking up Wastdale towards Wastdale Head / Great Gable.

This is the 'classic' view and fortunately the air and hence the lake surface was still, giving rise to a mirror where they met. Even if the water had been rippling and thus the reflection not present this would have been a striking view, with the mirror it is more so. The clarity of the reflection was so precise yet still preserving the wateriness. It wasn't until reviewing the picture that I noticed the stick in the bottom righthand corner. Zoom in and look at this. It has a majesty of its own.

Seeing this scene I immediately saw the parallel reflections - the mountain in the water and both in my mind. Many Zen koans point to this. For a second I mused on this before realising it didn't need any words.

Later in the week the moon was full and delightful in a clear blue evening sky. Viewed directly it seemed to occupy far more of the visual field than the tiny dot which appears in the following photo.

 

The moon is the small white dot fairly much in the centre of the picture. Almost insignificant in this picture, it assumed far more majesty when viewed with the naked eye. Again, I mused briefly on the moon's appearance in Zen koans. And recalling the mirror of the above picture I remembered Chiyono’s Bucket koan. This koan tells of a nun's enlightenment when the bottom fell out of the bucked in which she was carrying water. Her poem is translated thus:

With this and that I tried to keep the bucket together, and then the bottom fell out. Where water does not collect, the moon does not dwell.

I felt no need to dwell on these observations more and doubtless took myself back to the fireside for a warm. It was a cold week and the log fire was a very welcome companion!

The week was spent in the company of a lovely bunch of gay men and the heart energy was warm and nourishing. As ever living in community we're all there making mirrors for each other should we have the eyes to see ourselves in the reflection.

New year's eve we made a bonfire and celebrated the turn of the year with fireworks. After a bit the smoke from the fire seemed more troubling to me than the benefit of the warmth and I returned to the warmth of the fireside which benefited from a chimney. I took the following picture as I looked back towards the bonfire.

I find there's a magical quality to this picture and the word crucible comes to mind. It's so playful. An alchemy of love.

The week stitched together this and that with heart connection and was permeated with a gentle love.

It was nice that new year's eve was mid week as this let the week have a larger shape than had there been less symmetry.

Light filled the week in many regards.

One evening the sun cast a marvellous red glow upon the fellside in a hue resonant with that often pictured on Uluru / Ayers rock.

I overheard a snippet of conversation about the sacred nature of Ayers rock.

The English lake district is full of majesty. Mountains often feature in Zen with the streams that flow down them as the Buddha's tongue. The sound of water in nature reminding us that we see with more than our eyes.

There were long walks and short walks, high walks and low walks.

The wabi-sabi of this hut caught my attention. Looking at it now it seems to be sitting calmly in the tides of time as the sky sails by. And it was regarded with gentle affection by one of my walking companions who pointed it out to me as he led us onward. We nestled in the landscape full of our own reflections.

Later in that walk there was soft deep muddy ground with no obvious firm footing but we managed to traverse it without drama. I spied no lotus plants but it was an earthy reminder of the elements as had been the occasional day with icy winds and the amelioration of the fireside. I'd looked upon those of our group who seemed to be almost frolicking in the frigid water of the lake in their lunchtime swim with a sense of the exhilaration they would encounter and a sense of my own mortality! Ash does not return to firewood although we are both elements and the space that holds them. Yeah, yeah, whatever, says the little hut as I regard it in the picture now.

Friday evening brough the soiree and such talent! My 'turn' was later in the show and having watched so much enjoyable joy filled creativity I wondered how my opening to Shakespeare's Richard III, 'Now is the winter of our discontent...' would go down. In the end it was fine. At my last ECC event I'd 'done' Hamlet's 'To be or not to be...' Another 'heavy' one. I did consider Jaques 'All the world's a stage...' from Shakespeare's As you like it. But I'd done that for other groups and fancied trying something different.

Saturday brought our completion heart circle and I shared that I agreed with what one of the other men had said on a previous evening - living this way WAS normal - it's the world that's regarded as 'normal' that's 'shit'. The natural state of the human condition is one of heart connection, care, compassion and co-operation NOT dog eat dog.

Retreat from the world to come home to ourselves is the start of the voyage to the world. Through the reflections of our mind we land in the ocean of our heart. Yeah, yeah, whatever, says the little hut...

The Koan

 The koan arises naturally they say, and this way of looking at life is I think, worthy of some consideration. My koan is certainly tied up with fear. Fear which is closely tied to an appreciation of emptiness. It was by study of Zen Buddhism that I gained some clarity into the spiritual significance of what had previously been only a psychologically informed appreciation of my experience. Buddhism brought a wider philosophical understanding and the prospect of a greater peace than had been hoped possible. And more than this it brought a much greater depth and level of meaning to my life. Zen, by cutting straight to the heart of things with its uncompromising attitude to reality made what had been dimly understood and greatly felt and feared into a purpose. My understanding that things are so transient and vulnerable, clarified by the language of Buddhism as dependent origination, emptiness, made access to non-duality in the everyday a positive prospect. Couching this as the koan if I remember to see it that way, makes everything fuel to the fire of enlightenment. Through meditation both on and off the cushion and trying to keep to the precepts my experience might widen and deepen leading to a more compassionate, enriching life.

 Recently DC was talking about transcendence and perhaps having my koan in mind to some extent, I responded that those with an understanding of the spiritual significance of this are generally reluctant to speak of it for fear of doing harm, and he concurred. Altered states of consciousness, whether through meditation, music, dance, sex, alcohol or other drugs seem to have been a part of human experience for a very long time across many cultures. The harm or good any of this may cause depends upon intention, degree of awareness, precise details of the activity and energy expended. User beware! Let's consider that list a little: meditation, music, dance, sex, alcohol and other drugs. The first four have a history of links with spiritual practice, alcohol is a suppressant which blunts awareness and other than in small quantities to 'take the edge off' and promote a relaxed social mood is off very little benefit and can do a lot of harm. Drugs are numerous and dangerous. Some have a history of links to spiritual practice but generally not that held by established sanghas. Interestingly, there are current medical trials of psychedelics to help with anxiety and depression although they are not available as treatment options at this time. Aldus Huxley wrote of the 'reducing valve of the mind' and whilst I think we need take care with this notion there's something in it. Altered states of consciousness and transcendence have their place and if approached with the intention to surrender the self to the reality of the universe without craving experience can lead one to realise Buddha nature understanding that it's not an individual one but One that is. And then we return to the koan in daily life. Chop wood and carry water. These two aspects of life, form and emptiness, the mundane and the profound might be seen as an axis upon which I sit and struggle with fear, confusion and failing to keep the precepts, enjoy the vibrancy of life and its sensuality, play out past and create further karma... The koan unfolding. Unless any of these musings or the practices to which they refer result in greater compassion and ability to live happily causing minimal harm then they are at best useless but perhaps amusing and at worst harmful. Thankfully, the Buddha's recommendation to follow the 'middle way', steering us to the 'heart mind', does I believe, make the koan as indicated above, everything fuel to the fire of enlightenment. Which, when held by and holding the everyday struggles is an awfully magnificent prospect. The hour by hour experience is far less lofty.

I'm reading The Wild White Goose, the diaries of Roshi Jiyu Kennett during her time in Japan. There's a section in which the koan is discussed. Jiyu comments that people receive their koan at different times. This idea (of their koan) probably needs some 'unpacking' but the diaries don't go there and I don't feel confident to say much more than that the basic idea seems to match my experience. Jiyu goes on to point to the relationship of the size of the koan, the time one's had it and their degree of spiritual development. (The words used here aren't exactly hers, I'm aware that this sentence is fraught with possible confusion and it's difficult to be clear about the nature of temporality.) In this way of looking at things I think I may have received my koan at birth. I was induced, it was a difficult labour and I was cot nursed for the first couple of days. I imagine this was a stressful entry to the world. But who knows? I developed into a sensitive, cautious child. The koan was given further complexities as I developed OCD at about 9 years of age and realised I was gay at about 13 or 14. So, an interesting 'grab bag' of karma which by placing me in some respects outside the 'norm' has I think, given me or forced me to gain insight. These days I'm hard pressed to say where the size of my koan and the level of insight and/or spiritual development (that's not the right word) and the unfolding karma leave me. But such is the nature of koans.

Cutting the cat in one

For much of my life I've occupied the trying to be as right as possible space. And, spiritually it is important to wipe away the dust as much as it is to realise that there's neither dust nor anywhere for it to land. (See the Platform Sutra.) Now I notice that my efforts might be well focused on cutting the cat in one (see Mumonkan Case 14). Now, there's much pointed to I feel in this koan but the aspect which seems to draw my attention is finding unity at all levels in daily life. The precepts guide us in this and I recently came across a note that all the precepts are aspects of one precept - not to kill (the Buddha, the 'truth'). Can I remain present, aware and open to this so as to act in each arising moment in full accordance with this? No! Can and do I try? Fairly much so (I hope).

I started this post some days ago and didn't get into it before other things prompted me to write. Recently I was at Wallington in Northumberland and discovered that the Grade 1 listed walled garden greenhouse is now falling apart and subject to review by 'specialists' to determine what courses of action are open to the National Trust. Much decay and slipped glass is evident.

I found myself considering my thoughts about saving such assets. It's such a lovely place and I've photos from decades past of myself and friends in the greenhouse, the garden and outside the house. Observing the flaking paint it's clear the situation is beyond 'wabi-sabi' (a beauty I can struggle with accepting at the best of times), there's a risk to persons due to falling glass and access has had to be stopped even for staff. There is I think, merit (in the widest sense) in looking after historical things and it's lovely to pour love into them. Where I find myself feeling sceptical is the fuzzy area where a thing is beyond its life and we enter into a kind of fetish, generating an arguably false narrative about a thing. Without getting too bogged down in the details of the way we make our worlds both in the physical sense and in and through our thoughts, there are I think, broader cultural discussions to be had about our relation to the past, present and future. The past isn't (entirely) gone, it continues to unfold in each moment. And in this sense we have a responsibility to the future. Where energy is generated to save and / or create beauty, where there's creativity and love we know it feels right, heartfelt. Is there a space where we cross over into less helpful attachments in how we relate to the past? Can this impinge our ability to pour loving effort into the new? I think so. I think we can abrogate our responsibility to the future or more accurately to the present, by engaging in an excessive preoccupation with extending things beyond their life. A thing should live.

When I started this post I was wrestling with finding a way through an interpersonal conflict (hence 'cut the cat in one'). Forgetting the post and returning, inspired by thoughts of wabi-sabi, a natural life for a thing and appreciation of the space in which things have meaning, I wonder at the koan unfolding in daily life. Unity is present in the separation when I 'get out of my way', I do feel this even though it's not clear. Holding the questions 'In this moment what is being asked of me? What's needed in the next 5 or so minutes?' If I remember to ask and to open to the unity in the separation, the naturally arising answers go a long way to answer the koan without causing undue waves.

I hope a way can be found to keep life in the Wallington greenhouse, not 'pickled in aspic' but as a working, living thing.

My koan arising in the form of interpersonal conflict finds some resolution where I accept the need both to yield and stand firm. I'm disappointed that the koan can still overwhelm me at times in so many ways. Be like willow they say. It doesn't come naturally to me. And there's a time to be more the mountain. 

Some manifestations of the Buddha just shine out bright. Although I know some will call them garish, I love these splashes of bright red colour. There's a place for cool calm sophistication and a place for HELLO, I'm here!

Our Humanity

 I'm sitting trying to work out what this post is about. A number of things seem to have energy for (or be draining energy from) me. I continue to work with the challenges of our house moves, reawakened trauma and the changes and challenges that we all face in these times. I'm reading In Any Given Moment by Ajahn Munindo. I find this very interesting as I reflect upon my own spiritual journey in the light of how he describes his in this book. I'm still digesting that but the salient energy there is that I feel warmth and respect for him and renewed appreciation of the complexity and simplicity of the path. Homage to the triple gem.

The geopolitical situation is alarming. Trump and his tech oligarchs are a serious and dangerous threat to peace and democracy. I'm not convinced sufficient people realise how close rightwing populism, fuelled by  the disenfranchised fallout from 40 or 50 years of neoliberalism is taking us down the road to full scale fascism. As a gay man I'm hyper-vigilant to this. I have a sinking feeling; it may already be too late to save any hope of a world where cooperation with each other and the biosphere take precedence over the power of a very few very very rich people (mainly men). Toxic masculinity in the broadest sense is spewing out throughout the world.

 In this body-mind is squared the circle of this life. Trying to work out what this post is about and/or trying to work out what things have energy / drain energy is a manifestation of the koan; the resolution in a balance of trying and allowing tends to escape me. Sometimes the best that can be done is to look after the body and try not to spin the wheels (of the mind) too much.

Driving to work today a Spotify playlist came to Take me to Church by Hozier. It was this track that prompted me to post. There are a number of themes in this song but the basic energy in the music is our humanity.

Maria

Last night DC, a friend and I saw the movie 'Maria' about Maria Callas. I loved it and found it both aurally and visually stunning. Often there were tears streaming down my face. It was also I thought, cleverly constructed cinematographically to portray something of the state of her mental health, her use of medication and the way in which narratives are constructed and revised. Depicting something of the traumas of her younger life and alluding to the ways in which these informed her appreciation of the meaning of the music we are moved by the biography, the music and the energy and humanity of the characters. For me what shone through was an expression of the inevitable heartache at the bottom of human life. In life our hopes, dreams and aspirations seldom come without loss and suffering and however hard we try to control, plan and manage our life there is almost always a different outcome. In Buddhist terms we cling through delusion to things which are empty, they aren't what we ever thought or hoped and so at some point our experience disappoints and may even be so painful as to approach destruction of an integrated personality. The film portrays Maria as having taken refuge in the music. The music articulates suffering and our humanity and it is this which is both moving and beautiful. Through it we feel the nature of our predicament and ascend like the lark of Vaughn Williams above our separation and into a promise of... of we can't quite articulate... and 'it' remains just out of reach but nonetheless we have been suffused by it. But this refuge in music which has provided both articulation and meaning is ultimately taken from her as it is based upon the empty body and its dependence upon so many conditioned forms. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form came to me in various ways as narratives were constructed and revised time and again though the aural and visual fields of the movie. There is a celebration of creativity, work, care, love and affection. Life has value.

Beauty

Yesterday I saw in the news pictures of the inside of the restored cathedral of Notre Dame and they were so beautiful that I could feel tears welling up. I remembered a couple of years ago being in Paris outside the hording around Notre Dame and being similarly moved. For me it is the symbiotic relationship of the beauty of that created, which through our visual sense we perceive and the beauty of our humanity in doing this work which is moving. It has been a couple of weeks in which I have found my own relationship with the construction industry brought into focus. I marvel at the strides the industry has made in terms of tolerance and inclusivity, of the sophistication of the procurement and design practices now common place and the squaring of circles. I despair at the same old problems mostly caused by lack of investment, impossible budgets and timescales. I see myself having grown out of the harsher social environments of the industry as now somewhat of a dinosaur and yet also still fuelled by the same irrepressible determination to be as authentic as possible. I found myself listening to Jimmy Somerville and the energy of overcoming repression shone through the music and I was also moved by this and remembered the struggles. Recent posts here chart and indicate my questioning of the Buddha dharma and circulate about the nature of our being and any kind of liberation from suffering. When I consider the above beauties and struggles, the awareness to be experienced through meditation, through sex, through engaging with work, family and friends, with my partner DC who always has the capacity to illuminate, through music and the works of others I regain a sense of the fragility of our condition as beauty. It is in this field that I remember that there are those who realised Satori and I wonder, what do I wonder? What am I to make of this strange falling through life with its dialectic, its reaching out for boughs to hold, to remember that the sound of a stone striking bamboo or anything for that matter might in the ripe mind trigger the falling away... Does that really matter? That's an awfully big question. The divine isn't anywhere but this very moment in this very place but the depth of this is, to borrow a phrase an 'elusive obvious'.