Do We Have It Easy?

Paved roads everywhere; diet modification as per the fashion of the day; food whenever we want; cheap everything from China (for a little while longer) cars, phones, and pleasure, pleasure everywhere...

Don't get me wrong... I am grateful for it all. I recognise that my degree of privilege includes being critical of my privilege. However, I'd like to look at the fine balance which keeps many upon that treacherous edge of addiction and over-consumption.

It's easy to imagine a person addicted to say, buying shoes, so I'd like to take the idea of 'purchasing' a little deeper into the realm of thoughts. Imagine that each thought we create is like a kind of financial transaction, and in so doing, ask: what am I purchasing with this thought? What am I agreeing to be responsible for by following through on this 'transaction?' 

"Heathrow Mindfulness..."

If you find that to be labyrinthine - don't worry - as watching ones thoughts is much like a foreign exercise. It is much different that following ones thoughts. If you have a good pot of tea nearby, I think you'll get along much farther, and it would be my hope that you experience that dreaded word - discipline - as something which is instead both gentle and loving.

Just as an example: I'm currently staying with two lovely-hearted pups in the Kootenays. Last night while trying to sleep, and again this morning, these two free spirits were joining in with the wilderness chorus: barking at birds, barking at squirrels, barking at the fog, barking at their own breath... if they were "barking for cancer" we'd have a billion dollars raised by 2pm.

Now, for my money, discipline is a stoic beauty; and airspace, is noise-space, even on the solitude of a mountaintop. To know, and love, solitude, is to hear it... One of the greatest joys I've ever known is a true and complete silence - like listening to trees breathe on a windless day - and I would listen to such a movement non-stop if I didn't have to break for tea, food, bathing, and tending to the fire. Certainly the mind is "lively," and when we match our mind to our potential (Thomas Cleary), there is something Other which moves in tandem with us.

So too with these pups. And so too with our sense of self. Mindfulness is constant abiding, standing in contrast to the over-consumptive norm. And yes, it involves a little (gentle) discipline. Where there is sentience, there lay the seeds of Mindfulness.

Discipline is that thing which guides us whether we want it to or not. Some are very disciplined in being un-disciplined. Truly! However: discipline is the rudder to the ship, the keel to the waves, the sail holding the wind, and the bow pointing toward our visions. It gives our lives form. Regardless of the knowledge that 'we are all one,' and so-forth, our bodies do travel through this time contained to our form, and needing to interact with other things of form. We are interdependent at best - for the time being - yet I would argue that our course is better-made by a little prior preparation (photo source)

One can easily argue formlessness an equal pursuit of Mindfulness. However, without a practise to support this aspect of mind - this way of observing oneself with the world - there are truly many dangers. Becoming a total blockhead, for starters, and then, falling into oblivion.

I have found one beauty which is a close second to the radiant silence of the mountainside, and that is a wonder-filled pup who knows his or her place. A pup always wishes to do the right thing. Always. Those big brown eyes looking up to us always reveal the mind of their inner-puppy, up until we give them our constant and loving guidance. If we ourselves are disciplined with them, they grow into the very things which we do feed them.

To illustrate: I once ate an entire steak at a fireside with a beautiful big black lab beside me. There were all kinds of opportunities for me to loose that steak, as I was sitting in a lawn chair, dinner in my lap. "Happy," as the pup was named, didn't budge. He never once begged: never once whined, never once hunted about for scraps. He kept me good company, and kept watch on the fire and what may have come upon us from outside the fire's circle.


Happy, was Zen.

Odin & MacKenzie

Discipline's finest, is cooperation. It is an appreciation of self, and where we might travel aboard that self. And such was that time by the fireside with Happy, a place to travel. Discipline creates an interdependence not only with each other, but also with our higher selves. Our visions for our lives are a guaranteed beauty, and when we arrive to our place, so much of that scattered liveliness simply falls away from the forefront of our minds. Our wishing and hopes see the way through any turmoil given -when given a chance to be heard - and when we stand tall upon the deck of our own sea-faring vessel, each moment asks of us for greater degrees of navigation. It is impossible to steer the ship with any confidence or safety from the crows-nest...

I see too many young people lost at sea today and my heart goes out to them, as I myself have spent many months tossed about by waves, having believed oblivion, enlightenment. Though this is clearly not the exercise of Mindfulness, such a time to wander may be necessary when one leaves a nest. Our spirit's best health needs constant tending lest we allow ourselves to sink into anything less than a pleasurable alertness; and often, the arising youth within us needs a good long walk. Death by pleasure and wonder is just as much the prison as anything, and by such I am an advocate of little daily inner housekeepings - themselves a pleasure.

These beautiful pups know that every chirp and squeak in the forest is not a true danger, but their barks say otherwise, revealing a restless state of mind. The same way coughing in the theatre can be contagious, so too do the dogs in the valley set one another off. No doubt the small pleasures feel hilarious - and certainly 'squirrel-versus-dog' is a grand way to let off steam and have a good laugh - but without being able to return to a steady presence, a mindfulness in action, we miss out on the larger, grander, pleasures to be found within our time.


Steadiness in silence has been key for me. It is so rare to find such in ourselves or in the world, but we are given one chance here, so far as I can tell: One chance in this body and mind to uncover something of true wonder for ourselves. All the forms of pleasure in the universe do not combined reveal it, and yet its invitation does not cease for our seeing it.

Kindly and with love I wish for you regular and resolute periods of great calm.

www.sta-sis-arts.com

Indigo Washing

My colleague Michael and I have been in a several years long discussion on this topic. I believe we are all quite familiar with the term 'green washing,' where an endeavour of some kind tries to paint itself in a favourable and popular light by aligning itself with an environmental ethic. So too, it follows, that those aligned with a spiritual ethic can fall prey to "indigo washing."

Where in green washing, the central issue may well revolve about profitability versus what is of value, I'm going to postulate that in the case of indigo washing, the central issue is one of intimacy.

Rudolf Steiner, suggested that in time we will need "spiritual scientists," people who would be willing to put scientific and empirical rigour upon the subject and experience of spirituality. I mistakenly argue that I Ching is an empirical endeavour, as Michael has pointed out quite rightly that some people would oppose my use of empiricism in this case. So... perhaps "primitive empiricism" might due for the time being.

The complexity of this issue is that spiritual experience is open for all to take of, bask in, or neglect. ACDC, as I often say, is as much of a valid spiritual pursuit as meditation an Metallica. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and at some point, one's world view will be challenged: At some point, one's level of accomplishment, or understanding, or skill, is going to be challenged by new information and new experience, and the skin of the former attainment will be shed. Plumbers, artists, philosophers, and beggars... no one is immune.

Where I think those of us who strive to have a practice must stay alert, is whether or not we are using the practice as a mask, or if our search is genuine. And here's the trick:

At some point the practice will become a mask by necessity.

Just as an artist must have a high esteem of their own opinion - by necessity, in order to just have an opportunity to sell their work - so too must a spiritual scientist step out on a limb. The question must be asked: who is going to care about this, and why? Vulnerability, is a necessary tool, which can be difficult to appreciate regardless of which side you are on in any given moment. The method to proceed deeper and deeper into practice - or not, and to remain as one is - makes itself very pronounced by the presence or absence of discipline and attention to detail. This discipline, permits the vulnerability to find certainty, like a young writer 'finding their voice.'

Generally, after the first peak experience, a person is going to be in a sort of a vulnerable reverie for some time. I do not know enough about the use of drugs to be their advocate or opponent: I do believe, however, completely, in Life, and I believe our innate rejuvenative powers a fine place to orient a sense of faith. However, this reverie makes a lot of people nauseous. To their credit, it is difficult to be around people who are speaking on things one may have difficulty relating to, as people need - very dearly - to feel important. Amid new knowledge, those just off of the peak experience may well be using said knowledge to shield themselves from an otherwise 'mad' world. It is at those points where contention can set in. I believe we need to feel important because we have so many fundamental, potentially unanswerable, questions on our plate from the moment we are born; and from this central need, we tend to avoid reminders of the unknowns in our midst because they challenge our perception of a calm, comfortable, confidence. Conversely, by flaunting these reminders that 'all is not what it seems,' is not necessarily the best option of spreading ones personal gospel.

If we are to become a compassionate culture, I do think such situations beg the question: what does the uncomfortable behavior serve? Rigid behaviour amid contention points back to the notion of intimacy, and being able to generate meaningful discussions. The claimant of a peak experience is a call to action by presence alone, but this does not excuse the person from respecting the social mores into which they are situated. Such awkwardness, after a peak experience, generates an ensuing vulnerability abundantly. All kinds of random behaviour can follow as a means of dealing with this contention, and the potential detail and mutual learning can be swept under the nearest rug: 'being one,' or 'in pursuit of enlightenment,' or 'following abundance' are easy maxims to grab onto to either protect oneself, or dismiss someone in pursuit of these things.

But contention, like anything, cannot last. If the behavior allows a person to grow better into their well being, and garner the ability to articulate the causes of well being, then the person most likely was attending to something in their life which demanded rigor and responsible awareness.

And therein lies the key: responsibility. I think it is easy to sit upon a truth, or an identity, and consequently have its affective territory shrink over time. To take on a practice like yoga or meditation is to willingly enter something bigger than yourself, and to become an ambassador to the tradition whether one wants to or no. These practices are a "place to go," (Thomas Cleary) and by going there, to that 'place,' though one risks being vastly misunderstood, outcast, and ridiculed, if one remains true to their initial curiousity, perspective will continue to bloom - intrinsically and extrinsically.

Which is why cultural growth is difficult: who wants to risk social isolation, the dinner on their plate, the idea of gain, a career, and even the roof over their head to pursue something which may have no real guarantee? Yet any long standing artist can tell you quite quickly that to "turn your back on your bliss" (Joseph Campbell) is to essentially say no to Life.

{photo by Janet McIntyre}

Life is an invitation. Every heart beat. Every first moment of waking on every morning: The little bolt of thunder which reaches down from our skull and sends its gentle instruction to the heart to keep going, is the greatest invitation I've ever paid witness to.

I would like to recommend that the next time you have the opportunity to witness one person condemn another with the platitude 'so-and-so is just crazy,' or, 'people like that are so x-y-z...' to take a moment and reflect on that key question: what, intrinsically, is this behavior serving? Eventually, you can witness reciprocal behaviours in yourself, too. And should you find that the person to be in pain or distress of some sort, do you have the courage to ask them such? What then is the nature of compassion if not at least one part courage; and what is the cause of the behaviour which would otherwise condemn? Are not these two distinct choices linked?

These quick agreements we make - condemnations, complaints, criticisms - may well be some of the most powerful forces known to us. And as I say, I think indigo/spiritual endeavour is very much a matter of intimacy: an invitation of constant calling.

Food for thought:

Try Non-Denominational Meditation.