My Family and Me - the Things that Really Matter

Living to Live


There was a very disturbing murder-suicide just south of my city earlier this week. This statement is perhaps a bit weak as there is no un-disturbing murder-suicide unless one is talking about a couple of insane killers or something.

Anyway the case this past week involved a 94 year old man and his 80 something wife. Basically, the man was no longer capable of taking care of his wife, who was suffering from dementia, and they were going to be separated by each going into a home for the elderly. So, the man shot his wife and then himself.

We have truly let these people down as a society. First of all, it is appalling that separation of these two soul mates was their only living alternative. Secondly, and I know this is a very touchy subject, but not having a more humane way for these people to end their lives is troubling. My first point should be easy enough to remedy, the latter, however, is one that we will never be able to agree with as a whole society – my own thoughts on this are difficult to formulate or to find any coherency, let alone being able to suggest an answer for all.

I love life and have no desire to cease living. That being said, I feel very strongly about life. In my opinion, life is a purely qualitative thing, yet many focus solely on the quantitative side of living (the same could be said of life v. possessions). For me, I want to live as long as I am able to experience living. My definition of living is the ability to derive intense pleasure, and not being in intense pain or suffering from mental deficits (well, no more than I already do!). If I am 80 and able to do reasonable things like play chess, read, get out and about, etc., then I will still have a strong desire for life. On the other hand, if I'm suffering from chronic pain or deteriorating from a terminal illness, unable to focus on things like reading and music or am house ridden, then the time will come to no longer be.

I've had a few relatives diagnosed with terminal illnesses. I remember one Uncle in particular dying of cancer. His last six months were hell, yet they continued to give him chemo, tap fluid from his lungs, and keep him alive through oxygen and IV's. He was unable to go out, and existed with a sharp mind, though gasping with each breath (and, for the record, he was 65 when he finally succumbed and, until his illness, was a healthy, active man who never drank or smoked). If there was a way that I could have ended his suffering, I would have done so. Likewise, I hope if ever I am in such a situation, that someone would show me such mercy.

In the end, life is a lottery. We never know when our time is up. I lost two friends this summer, one through a motorcycle accident, the other from disease – both 40 or younger. I know folks who seem to break all the rules of healthy living and are going strong (my Father-in-law is healthy as a horse at 70, loves his rich food, pipe and wine), some in old age and very active, while there are other friends I know who have lived to the letter of health, but ended up with cancer – some made it, while others did not. So, even though we think we have answers to living long and healthy lives, there is obviously no guarantee.

Bearing this in mind, we must then focus on the quality of our lives – and this is very subjective. In pursuit of this, we must be responsible and accept the possible risks of the things we choose to undertake. For example, I spent the afternoon today bouldering at a local climbing gym. By doing this, I know that I will have hamburger hands at the end of the day, and I also know that I could slip and fall, break a bone, end up in a wheel chair or even dead. I know the risks and I choose to accept them as this is something I enjoy doing and I protect myself to the best of my ability when climbing. Same applied during my years of playing Rugby. I feel every injury and hit today, but would I change a thing? No.

You can apply this manner of thinking to everything we choose to do, or not to do, in our lives. For example, if a person chooses to smoke because they enjoy it, then there is nothing wrong with this. Education tells us all from an early age that smoking can be hazardous to one's health. Therefore, by smoking, one accepts that it could kill them, leave them short of breath and cost a lot of money over one's life. As well, one choosing to smoke must also be responsible in assuring that no one else will be subjected to it. The same applies to drinking. If one indulges, one can anticipate the hangover. One must also ensure that, by indulging, that they will not create acts of violence or put others in danger. When I drink, I am very mellow and happy. I had an uncle who drank and became violent (i.e. when I was 13 he held a loaded shot-gun to my head for half an hour or so).

Now some might be quick to point out: "what about one's friends and family?" when deciding to do something hazardous. There is validity in this question. For example, is it fair for one to do something that might be harmful (i.e. smoking, sky diving, alligator wrestling) to themselves if the repercussions might affect one's personal community of family and friends? I suppose, though rather flippantly, I would respond that life is hazardous, period. Each time we go out of our homes we risk getting hit by a drunk driver, mugged by and addict or slipping on the ice. Each time we drive our car, we risk a collision. Each time we eat, there is a degree of ugliness to our food that detrimentally affects our bodies. Our air contains toxins. In the end, it would drive you silly if you really begin to dissect all the detrimental factors in our environment.

Again, please don't think that I am condoning everything. For example, things like drug use can never be a responsible choice as one is supporting the entire criminal dynamic and engaging in unknown behaviours due to the nature of the narcotic. The same can be said about drinking and driving, or walking around, brandishing weapons or perpetrating assaults. It is the notion of this free-for-all that makes the second point stated in the third paragraph of this missive so difficult, as the propensity for abuse or perverse agendas is very possible, given the darker side of human nature.

In the end, all I want to push forward as my main idea is that we need to live every moment to its fullest extent. In living, we must do so consciously and responsibly. Live long and live well. Be responsible but do not live so conservatively that you are merely existing. Try to be peaceful and ensure that what you decide to do is not selfish and at the expense of others, but, on the same hand, remember to respect the rights of others to conduct their lives in the way in which they choose. The end idea is to be happy, and, in pursuing this, our intents should be pleasurable and good.

Namaste.

The Light in Grey

Beneath concrete skies,
wary eyes wantingly pass over
decaying facades of huddled homes
once lively with boundless dreams,
where leaves dropped one Autumn,
never to re-bud
like a heart shrivelled by betrayal's
corrosive, bitter exhalation,
feelings forsaken forever,
rheumatic cracks in asphalt
swallow tawny stalks of drying weeds
brittle, like a serpent swallowing something
twice its size.
This is where childhood began all things,
hope constructed, renovated then
abandoned when realising that
this is not the rabbit-eared reality television
proposed verbosely through metallic rods
and grey-white snow
the American dream;
barbed memories of
the true past re-visit,
blinding from future that never came.
Alone, beneath concrete skies,
weary eyes wait, smelling smoky
hints that a
last candle may continue to share
its light if it could only be seen.

Edmonton, AB, Canada

Bleeding Pen, Sharpening Sword


I am a Special Needs teacher at a junior high school. The majority of my students read at very low levels – all are the product of their demographic and socio-economic situations, compounded by a plethora of conditions ranging from ADHD, to dyslexia, to Foetal Alcohol Syndrome, etc. When you add other cultural influences such as television, there are times that I feel I am taking on a Sisyphusian task. I fear for these children. On the one hand, an individual needs to possess the ability to read to survive in our modern world in a practical sense. Greater still is how this inexpensive form of pleasure and mind expansion is being lost for these kids and our world. My own Mother could not read, and her life (ergo my childhood) suffered for it.

I love to read. In fact, I find my relationships with a book to be more intimate at times than it is with people I know. In a novel, one gets to know the protagonists on a level that we oftentimes can not achieve with our mortal counterparts. Books allow us to enter a character's thoughts, whereas in the real world we must go on assumptions of what others are thinking.

Books can transport us into the past, future or fantasy worlds, explore philosophical themes or simply make metaphorical and allegorical commentaries on our contemporary societies. For example, I've been reading several Middle Eastern writers as of late such as Orhan Pamuk, Khaled Hosseini and Yasmina Khadra which have provided me with an amazing insight into the Islamic world through several contrasting lenses. If more Westerners would venture into these writings, perhaps we could better understand the issues facing the world in terms of terrorism and so forth. I can not begin to stress the importance of trying to understand the points of view of others, and books (plus foreign films) provide us with the best opportunity aside from actually going to these places.

Ultimately, books are readily accessible, can be easily transported around, do not require a power source, are not limited to special effects budgets and become all the more intimate through the relationship the author builds with our imagination. In all honesty, when I finish a good novel, I feel like I am saying good bye to a dear friend. As Tom Stoppard would suggest in "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead", one need only open to the first page to bring the story and characters to life once more. With so many books out there, I seldom have this opportunity.

Reflecting back to the students with whom I work, and the overall level of literacy levels in many of the First World's great democracies, it frustrates me that how reading does not take precedence over all other governmental issues. Literacy levels in the United States are way below even some Third World nations, and my own country, though somewhat better off in this regard, still has a long way to go. The Arts in general are often painted as economic villains during times of elections and what not, and it frightens me to live in a society that focuses more on economy and possessions than it does in those things that add to the qualitative aspects of life or builds the intelligence and knowledge of its citizens. Imagine, if everyone was literate and well read, perhaps countries like the U.S.A. would not spend trillions on their military budgets as they would not be driven to war through fear and misunderstandings. In Canada we might look positively on the construction of a new Art Gallery, as we do with a new Hockey arena. This latter example is happening in my city right now in that public opinion supports the building of a new rink for the Edmonton Oilers (despite having a perfectly good one already but just not containing enough corporate boxes for the Oil executives), but has not stopped moaning about the expense involved in the modern world class Art Gallery being built (we were also supposed to build a National Portrait Gallery here, but the Federal Government withdrew the funding). Our North American cities have sacrificed architecture and any form of vision for box stores and drive-thrus. Who wants to exist in a strip mall urban wasteland, especially when contrasted to cities such as Paris, Vienna and Prague?

My car bares a bumper sticker that reads "KILL YOUR TELEVISION". Like President-Elect Obama said in one of his final campaign speeches (and I'm paraphrasing): "parents must parent – sit down and read with your kids as opposed to letting TV and other media raise them". I look at the children that I teach and know, despite their diagnosed conditions, that if they had parents who took the time to parent them, to read with them, if we had a government that funded schools like they provide breaks to corporations, then they would be much further ahead. As a community, we must promote the Arts and reach children at the earliest age possible. Reading, like the Opera and Symphony, should not be elitist things accessible only to the wealthy. By grooming young patrons, we are also adding to Arts funding and expanding the entire scene – our scene. Literacy is central to all of this. We need to become more human as people, as opposed to becoming numbers in a cubicle, all watching the same TV shows and listening to the same music. We need to be able to travel from city to city and feel like we are somewhere new. Our mindset needs to shift from this fanaticism about health, weight and flavour of the month. We need to be provoked and moved. We need to feel alive.

How can the pen remain mightier than the sword if the world's masses are unable to wield it and learn from the messages that it etches onto the page?

Charlatan's March

Posthumous shadows of
mystics and sages
seeping, leaking blackness
impostors block incinerating sun
with their inflammable pages,
sheltering in voided darkness
leading toward the abyss,
disconnected dust swirls
under each sole,
light and weighted, whirling,
dizzy, disoriented, falling, enlightened but unobserved;
forgotten – lost
seen only by great apes gazing through treetops
on high, waiting to return to the tegument below
to begin anew.

Reflection on 1600+


Reflection is an essential component of living a fulfilling life. If we do not take the opportunity to reflect, we tend to enter ruts, develop detrimental habits and, ultimately, miss out on a lot of what our lives have to offer. If we do not challenge our assumptions, we will never grow as human beings. Ideas that go unchallenged make about as much sense as marrying the first person you ever dated. Doing things over and over that are self-destructive to our selves or to others does not make much sense either.

Reflection comes to us in several ways, and there is not a generic way to gain introspectiveness as we are all different, all individuals. Personally, I find that my Yoga and meditation practise, supplemented with a lot of reading in various spiritual and psychological texts ranging from the Dhammapada and Bhagavad Gita to Jung and De Bono are essential to my reflective process. Equal to these are moments when I sit and smoke my pipe and listen to music, or play my guitar, accompanied by a dram of fine single malt. Running through the river valley with my two dogs or going to the gym are also excellent opportunities to reflect. Ultimately, there is no excuse in our lives to not find a way to reflect, it's just a matter of making the effort. The means to this end are extensive: prayer, knitting, painting, etc. Still, many people are so caught up in the high-speed, 24/7 world in which we live that we fail to do this.

This Blog which I started a few years ago has just surpassed 1600 viewers. How many actually stopped and read what I have written is unknown as folks seldom leave comments. Regardless, with this many people potentially checking out what I written is exciting and terrifying. It truly causes me to reflect on why I do this. It's definitely not for fame as this site is a microscopic molecule on a piece of lint stuck to the back of a very small ant in the infinity that has become the blogesphere. I have no desire to become some sort of guru, counsellor or leader – it's simply not something I aspire to in the least. My reasons for writing are simply (1) I have a need to write; be creative in some capacity, and (2) based on my punk rock roots, want to be a provocateur. I do not care what people think of what I write, but do hope to elicit some sort of synaptic reaction (preferably for the universal good). Much of what attracted me to Buddhism was based in the Buddha's message which, paraphrased, stated: these are the truths and way I've found, but do not take my word as truth, but rather, find your own. It comes down to Newton's theory of actions and reactions, as I try to live by Gandhi's words of "be the change that you wish to see in the world". I do not care to be idealised because I am simply like everyone else with darkness in my past, who can be a hypocrite and makes all the other mistakes characteristic of any human being. In the end, I am venting, developing my own sense of things through my words, while, sometimes, just having a laugh… So, in the end, this blog is a bit like my reflectiveness on steroids... and I could be wrong about everything I have ever written....

Namaste.

Discovering the Spirit's Essence


I just spent the past hour and a bit in what is truly spiritual bliss. In my basement-cum-Art and Music room I sipped a wee dram of 15 year old Laphroaig while playing a combination of my guitars, banjo and tin whistle, with a nice little break thrown in where I enjoyed my dram further accompanied by a nice bowl in my pipe and listening to Flogging Molly. One can not find a truer religion anywhere in my opinion – drenched in song and a touch of spirit and smoke. This is how people should live their lives. My only regret, which isn't a large one, is that I didn't have a few friends with me to join in.

As people, we really tend to miss out on this kind of thing in both personal and social contexts. Music has been the basis for cultures since time began, woven in with other organic things such as story telling, dancing etc. I remember many of the kitchen celidhs we had back in my native Nova Scotia, and am saddened at how rare an occurrence such things tend to be these days. I'm truly disappointed in the way we now live – tied to televisions and our computers (yes, I know that there's a tad of irony here), iPod and cell phones – more connected but never further apart from one another. We have this sense of perpetual doing and motion, of convenience and sense that life is not being lived if not at full tilt constantly. We stress about health to the point that it makes us sick, sacrificing simple pleasures for material things, qualitative lives for longitivity …

People no longer know how to live acoustically. The power goes out or we forget a cell phone and we become lost and are overburdened with a sense of helplessness that is blasphemous against the backdrop of our evolution as a species. This is sad as with this, we have lost the essence of being human. No longer do we see the connection between one another as we speak through screens, shop on-line and buy anonymous food from our grocers.

Perhaps I'm a nostalgic old fool. The point is, making music together or alone, telling stories or reading Literature that transcends cultures, times and the limitations of both Hollywood and special effects adds a far more qualitative quantity to being than most forms of modern socialisation. This is not to say that watching television is bad or that Facebook is evil, but it is the monopolisation of these things in our lives that leaves us empty. Just like churches that no longer seem relevant and provide hollow senses of spirituality, these things too can leave us empty if it is all we have. We have five senses that need to be saturated and stimulated – responsibly and within reason of course – yet we inundate them with insubstantial fluff.

Look at cultural things such as the significance of the drum, circle, dancing, and so forth. There is a heritage found in all these things that make us human. There is even a relevance to the modern techno of the day, but within these beats the story has been lost. There needs to be that organic component – the stories, the vibration of metal strings or the reverberation of a skin tightened onto a frame, then struck, to provide substance. We are creatures of flesh and blood, bound by intimacy and emotion. What is a life if these aspects are excluded?

So, as the weekend approaches, I encourage you all to live. I have my ideas as to what life should be, and do not wish to push them upon my readers. However, I do ask, if you are feeling empty, to ask the root of this hollow. I do encourage you to live acoustically, independent of technology to some extent, and remember the warmth of another's hand, the sound of another's voice and the taste of something wonderful. Life is not simply auditory or visual, but something of substance. Seek that as you will in a way that suits you. If you decide this is best sated with a wee bit of Scotch and a pipe of tobacco while immersing yourself in the ambience of live music, than know that here you have a kindred spirit who wishes you well! It's not about how well you play, but rather, that you are making your own wee symphony.

Slainté!

Obama


The recent election of Barack Obama as the first non-white President is an amazingly progressive accomplishment for minorities throughout the world, and it should be celebrated. We must, however, in our revelry, be wary of making this into the same thing that led to years of persecution of blacks and other minorities in the United States and throughout Western democracies – the identification of an individual based upon race. President-elect Obama is a great man who has inspired millions – full stop. Obama is a champion for us all, regardless of race, religion or gender. Definitely, Obama should be viewed as a role model for black people, but he is also half white, half Muslim and so on as well. Ergo, Obama is an intelligent and inspiring human being whose message exceeds everything else and his potential to inspire others from all walks of life is immense. I feel very sad for those individuals who voted for or against Obama based only on his skin colour.

Expectations and hopes are very high as Obama takes the reins of the world's most powerful nation in January. I hope that people of our modern high-speed 24/7 culture do not expect him to deliver the moon overnight. The media has us all like children on Christmas Eve. The changes Obama represents will take time and much of it will be caught up in the usual pitfalls of bureaucracy and diplomacy. The hope he has given us, however, is immediate, as well as his message that to accomplish much of what Obama has suggested requires our support, self-sacrifice and action – and I am speaking here as a Canadian and citizen of the world. If unsuccessful, Obama's failures will be no more based on his skin colour than if he exceeds our wildest expectations. If anything, based on the reaction so far, Obama has given the world more than any other politician in recent memory. While I cringe at those politicians who will imitate Obama for electoral gain, I do hope that he has ignited a spark for peace, democracy and tolerance that will kindle itself internationally and make life better for all on this earth.

The Bill, Please


My wife, daughter and I were out earlier this evening for a curry at a local Indian Restaurant. We all love Indian food, and there is something about the whole aesthetic of Indian restaurants that creates a relaxing ambience that compliments the wonderful and diverse flavours of the foods.

None of us were very talkative this evening. My wife is on a slow-down after a very hectic couple of months at work, leaving her in that state of mind I find myself in after school ends for the summer break – that whole sense of not knowing what to do with one's self and feeling a bit down as things enter a brief lull. My daughter was also feeling a bit under the weather, and therefore not her usual chatty six year old self. As for me, I don't tend to talk outwardly much outside of work, and tend to be in my head most of the time.

This evening was no exception.

At this particular restaurant, there are wonderful little booths which provide relative privacy behind opaque curtains. You can see other people in the booths around you, so it's more of a cozy feeling with the subdued lighting than one of harsh isolation. When we arrived, there were two older ladies sitting in the booth beside us, and you could hear their conversation floating through the thin fabric when your attention decided to take notice. About half way through our dinner, these ladies finished their meal, paid their bill and were on their way. The waiter cleared and re-set the table and, shortly afterward, I could hear him initiating the usual introduction of a host – the welcome, asking for drink orders and engaging in a small bit of conversation- with a new group of younger ladies, bubbling as people do when youthful and beginning a dinner out with friends.

There was something profound that I was observing of all this – perhaps something I can not relay with any effectiveness – that caused me to feel that the transition of the people, the ritual greetings and conversations, was rather metaphorical for life; all these lives going on around us, some touching us directly, others, indirectly. Relationships are similar to restaurants as people come into our lives, and then carry on their way – either as our dinner companions or simply people that we take notice of around us. We know boundless intimacy and friendship for people, as lovers, friends and companions, and, eventually, these things fade to memory as new people come into our lives. I am amazed at how such closeness can dissolve, despite that all feelings are temporary and fleeting. Emotions are temporary states of feeling, but people, physical embodiments that contain a core context or essence that remains throughout one's existence.

I feel that I am not doing this justice here, and acknowledge that this is a feeling largely initiated through the train of thought that I have been contemplating as of late. If not in a similar mindset, I can see how these ideas might not register.

I am becoming more of a recluse, yet there is a sense of loneliness that conflicts with my desire for solitude. There are so many people with whom I've shared intense closeness throughout my life, but very few remain an active part. Perhaps we tend to idealise others and then grow disillusioned. I am contented with my life, but there is still a sense of struggle within and notions of ideals. Perhaps this is a cultural issue. I have witnessed the pubs of Ireland and England first hand, and experienced the wonderful social aspects of Slovak and Viennese cafes. We don't have this sense of socialisation in the suburban sprawl of Canadian cities. We are a closed door society who, when beyond our 20's, tend to work all week, take our children to their soccer and hockey games in the evenings and on weekends, and basically crash in front of the television at the days end. True it would be difficult to inspire many people to go out to a local café on a dark and frigid January weeknight in Canada. Essentially, we all tend to drift away from one another after our proverbial deserts.

I'm presently reading Orhan Pamuk's "Snow", and there is a quotation that really resonated within me that fits with the theme I am rambling on about:

"It's because I'm solitary that I can't believe in God. And because I can't believe in God, I can't escape my solitude."

This statement truly describes both my spiritual and social struggle throughout the years. My sense of being solitary is largely due to disenfranchisement with much of the world around me. In my quest for substance, I have ended up denying myself much. The same applies to faith. I accept, in the words of Keats, that "beauty is truth and truth, beauty", but struggle to transcend this from an aesthetic perception into one of faith. Everything is as temporary as the metaphor of a meal in a restaurant. I believe in the teachings of The Dhammapada and the Bhagavad Gita as the way to live my life, and believe equally that each act of good and compassion that I do will change the world. I cannot bring myself to believe that the world will ever be transformed entirely, and thus my desire for solitude and inability for faith. It is a conundrum that has, as stated earlier, given me a sense of joyful contentment as well as melancholic loneliness and desire for qualitative sensual experiences (and I am not stating this in a sexual context, but, rather, in the framework of all that is "beauty"). While happy for each life that has touched my own and made me who I am, it is perhaps the nostalgic strings of attachment which cause my pangs and reinforce what the Buddha stated about attachment being the root cause of all suffering. Hence the difficulty of reading great thoughts and contrasting this into the habituation of them in one's life. Thus life is a practice with ever-changing menu surrounded by a decor that is ever-altering, alone on the journey, regardless of our temporary companions. In the end, this does not make me so sad, as all things are as they are and I am that I am.

Spirit, Life Introspections and Getting to Where We Are


For the first time since my teenage years and early twenties, I feel like I truly have an understanding and sense of satisfaction with my life. This sense of happiness is derived from a plethora of life experiences, relationships, travel, crisis, etc. Like mastering an instrument, though I've failed to do this as of yet, life takes practise. I have been blessed, for lack of a better word and not wanting to sound religious, by the things I have: a family, a home, a job as a teacher where I can assist other's growth, friends and so forth. I have been through my share of hell on both personal and professional levels, in addition to pushing myself through my own masochistic expectations, idealising others and so on. In spite of it all, here I am – not that I could be anywhere else in the esoteric sense.

Much of accepting ones self is a simple result of growing up. When we are young, though insightful and with knowledge, we are too consumed with our egos, self-esteem and desire to belong. Many compromise themselves to a great extent to facilitate this before letting it go and letting things be what they may, while others never forgo this compromise and continue in their later years to seek self-worth via materialism and false sense of belonging. As a youth, I was overweight, into reading too much and sprouted excessive body hair in my years immediately proceeding puberty. I didn't have my first real girlfriend until I was 19 or 20, despite being the singer of a punk band, doing readings of my own poetry at university and hosting my own college radio programme. It hurt to a large extent back then, but that is the adolescent years. Looking back now, I am grateful as I feel that it caused me to be the person who I have become, not caught up in vanity or adding notches to the proverbial bed post. To this day I remain absolutely clueless when it comes to women and, even in my latter bachelor days, literally relied on the woman to take the initiative and club me over the head (affectionately of course). I guess there are some signals we never learn to detect.

In any case, we are all products of our pasts, but also how we have synthesised our experiences into life. It's an interesting thing how experiences play on our development. Ultimately, no two people can ever share an exact experience as all things are filtered through our psyches and perceptions, thus making each of us unique – even if we are attempting to conform. That is the central realisation of simply being. This is also where conflict can arise, if we are not vigilant in remaining aware of others and their unique perspective. Sadly, more of us are not aware of this, leading to the world of conflict and skewed equilibrium that we see each day.

Those of you familiar with my writings will know that I read a lot on Buddhism, Hinduism, etc. "The Dhammapada" is one of my favourite books in this area, and the recent translation that I read by Eknath Easwaran is amazing. I have read a lot by the late Easwaran, including his interpretation on the "Bhagavad Gita", and he remains one of my favourite authorities pertaining to Eastern philosophy, right beside my other guru, Thich Nhat Hahn. If I could recommend that people read this one book on "The Dhammapada" and to think about it's message and guide to living, I feel that many would gain from it what took me years to realise. It's not a religious book, despite its spiritual cannon, but rather a logical guide to living. Easwaran is notorious for cross referencing his message from other religions, great thinkers such as Einstein and Ghandi, making it easily digestible by people of any religious denomination through to the atheists. I truly urge you all to give it a read.

I am often times, perhaps unfairly, critical of religion and our society as a whole. This is my experience. Religion today seems either a going through the motions of passed down traditions, to spiritual enterprise and fundamentalism. I have studied and experience much in a number of spiritual venues, most of which left me feeling nothing (and this includes Buddhist temples as well!). For my own spiritual divination, I have sought and found my own way. My views are a mosaic of things that cause me to ponder and make sense. I take my teachings from life, people I meet and books that I read. I revere what has been passed down through sages of the ages, but remain non-secular in my beliefs.

Take Yoga for example. I have been a Yoga practiconer since the 1990's, and feel that it is a useful tool for centering myself and creating an awareness throughout my body. This year, I had also planned on getting my Yoga teacher certification, but backed out, largely influenced by cost, but also by my own nagging introspections. To become a Yoga instructor, it would take a year and cost close to $3000. Two things bothered me about this: (1) to become a teacher of Yoga after only a year seems as ludicrous as those who earn a black belt in a martial art in a year or two. (2) how can we justify such an expense. Given Yogic philosophy, is it ethical to make a business out of teaching others to teach Yoga? I can understand a teacher charging for classes, though most of the Yogis would do so simply for alms, but when taking one as an apprentice to teach – can we truly put such a financial tag on such things. This, in my estimation, is the two edged sword of Yoga in the West: it is wonderful to introduce people to practice, but transferring Yoga into business has lead to its misrepresentation and potentially caused injury to a sacred art. What nature of karma does this all create? $16 drop in fees and all the fancy Lululemon attire is possibly essential to the business side of Yoga, but it begs the question: Art or Industry?

This take on Yoga may also be translated into views on religion. Many flock to their spiritual centres of their parents and community, and the community of a congregation, sangha or whatever is a good things. However, many of these communities have become spiritually benign and immersed themselves with the competitive side of religion and are often imbued with issues of money. Just as in running a Yoga studio, any church or temple requires an element of financing, but when does that financing forego the faith aspect? The gold gilded cathedrals around the world are a testament to this – especially where parishioners live in poverty. If you read the Bible, for a change of pace, look in Exodus 20, just after the Ten Commandments are listed and you will see the Old Testament's take on alters and whatnot. Paraphrasing, alters should be made of earth, for hewn stone worked with tools leads to a contaminated place of worship – chalk one up for the Pagans there!

The end result of this all, in my hypothesis, is that people have lost faith in religions, and understandably so, and thus put it into materialism. On the one hand, who can blame them as Fundamentalists argue that the dinosaurs were a hoax on that it is their way or damnation. But people are missing out in that there is a message beneath it all that makes sense, once you separate the crap, politics and opportunism. I think that finding this is largely why I feel inspired by where I find myself in life. Not everyone will get it – that is youthful idealism. But that does not matter. I don't know how much I really get or whether tomorrow my thoughts will be massively altered. This is the nature of things. All that matters is whether or not someone gets it. This is where we find joy and gain self-realisation. Quoting from Easwaran's "The Dhammapada":

We are what our deep, driving desire is.
As our deep, driving desire is, so is our will.
As is our will, so is our deed.
As our deed is, so is our destiny.
(Brihadaranyaka IV. 4.5)

Do our deeds not determine our destiny? Is it not as Robert Frost wrote:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Life is perspective and a conscious act. How we view life will largely determine how we view life – the "half empty, half full" way of seeing things. Life is a choice between easy and difficult, but each yields its own strange fruit. I will close, contented as to where I find myself, quoting from the first two verses of "The Dhammapada":

All that we are is a result of what we have
thought: we are formed and moulded by our
thoughts. Those whose minds are shaped by selfish
thoughts cause misery when they speak or act.
Sorrows roll over them as the wheels of a cart roll
over the tracks of the bullock that draws it.

All that we are is the result of what we have thought:
we are formed and moulded by our thoughts. Those
whose minds are shaped by selfless thoughts
give joy whenever they speak or act. Joy follows
them like a shadow that never leaves them.