INTERDEPENDENCE, IN ESSENCE

Everything exists in relation to everything else, which is to say that nothing exists independently of other things.  In Zen Buddhism this is described as the mutual interpenetration of all things and events.  An image often used to illustrate this is a spider’s web at dawn.
 
The philosopher Alan Watts expressed it this way: “Imagine a multidimensional spider’s web in the early morning covered with dew drops.  And every dew drop contains the reflection of all the other dew drops.  And, in each reflected dew drop, the reflection of all the other dew drops in that reflection.  And so ad infinitum.”

The Buddhist concept of dependent origination is related to this.  It states that all things arise in dependence upon multiple causes and conditions. 

CONSIDER THE CONSEQUENCES

An action depends on something else in order to occur, and this something else for a person is usually in the form of a decision.  Should I take this action or not take this action, or even should I think this thought, or not think this thought, because thoughts lead to actions, most often.
  
The Buddhist teaching in the Majjhima-Nikaya II.32 reads:  “If this is, that comes to be; from the arising of this, that arises; if this is not, that does not come to be; from the stopping of this, that stops.” 
 
We must, in other words, think through what we are thinking and doing, or, as the case may be, think through what we have chosen to not think and to not do.  Thinking and doing and not thinking and not doing, equally have consequences.

HERMITAGES

In the posting here entitled “Vivekananda and Pavhari Baba” I wrote that Pavhari Baba dug himself a cave to serve as a hermitage, and I included Vivekananda’s comment that there was a tradition at that time of Hindu yogis choosing caves or similar spots to live and practice in because among other things a cave had an even temperature and no distracting sounds.

Such dwellings were not limited to Hindu yogis, however, as religious practitioners in many faiths, from Christianity, to Buddhism, to Taoism, to Sufism, used them, and still do, in various forms.  Some are caves, but others are small cottages, such as Thomas Merton’s hermitage at the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky.

From a religious point of view such isolation is a form of asceticism, where an individual renounces the distractions of contact with human society and the need, for instance, to maintain socially acceptable standards of cleanliness or dress.  Such a lifestyle might also include a simplified diet and/or manual labor as a means of support.

Before he abandoned asceticism for the moderate approach that became Buddhism, Gautama Buddha lived with two hermits in the wilderness.  The Hindu philosopher and saint Ramana Maharshi lived and meditated in caves in Southern India for seventeen years.  The founder of Taoism, Lao Tzu, is said to have spent the end of his life in solitude, as a hermit. 
 
Early Christians back to the 3^rd Century monk Anthony the Great sought complete solitude by moving deep into the Egyptian desert, where they lived in caves.   

VIVEKANANDA AND PAVHARI BABA

Vivekananda much revered the 19^th Century Hindu saint Pavhari Baba.
 
Pavhari Baba (d. 1898) was born near Guzi, Varanasi into a Brahmin family.  As a youth, he studied Hindu philosophy with his uncle, who lived in Ghazipur.  His uncle was a Naishthika brahmachari, and a follower of the Ramanuja or Shri sect of Hinduism. 
 
After finishing his studies, Pavhari Baba visited many pilgrimages, following which, at Girnar in Kathiawar, he was initiated into Yoga.  He subsequently returned to Ghazipur where he built an underground hermitage, a cave, on a piece of land he inherited from his uncle.  There he practiced meditation and Hatha Yoga.

Vivekananda commented that there was a tradition of Hindu yogis choosing caves or similar spots to practice in, because the temperature there was even, and there were no distracting sounds. 
 
Vivekananda was 27 years old when he met Pavhari Baba.  So impressed was he by him that he wanted to become one of his disciples.  The night before his initiation by Baba, however, Vivekananda had a dream wherein he saw his master Ramakrishna looking at him with a melancholy face.  This dream made Vivekananda realize that no one other than Ramakrishna could be his teacher, and so he abandoned the idea.

Vivekananda always held Pavhari Baba second only to Ramakrishna.  Indeed, Vivekananda delivered a lecture entitled “Sketch of the life of Pavhari Baba,” which was subsequently published as a booklet, and which can now be found on the internet under that title.

As for how Pavhari Baba died, it is rumored to be by self-immolation, when he was 100 years old, “a last oblation to the Lord.”  It is said that he did not come out of his hermitage for several days, and then one day people noticed the smell of burning flesh.  This was in 1898.  There are other sources, though, that maintain he died peacefully in his cave.

VIVEKANANDA DESCRIBES VEDANTA

In the book Pathways to Joy, Swami Vivekananda describes Vedanta this way:  “The Vedanta philosophy has certain peculiarities.  In the first place, it is perfectly impersonal:  it does not owe its origin to any person or prophet, and it does not build itself around one person as a center.  Yet it has nothing to say against philosophies that do build themselves around certain persons.

“In later days in India, other philosophies and systems arose, built around certain persons--such as Buddhism or many of our present sects.  They each have a certain leader to whom they owe allegiance, just as the Christians and Muslims have.

“But the Vedanta philosophy stands at the background of all these various sects, and there is no fight and no antagonism between the Vedanta and any other system in the world.”

DIVINITY OF THE SOUL

Swami Vivekananda said that consciously or unconsciously every human being is trying to unfold the divinity of his soul.   Each of us, he said, is like an infinite spring, coiled up in a small box, and that spring is trying to unfold itself.  All that we see around us is this attempting to unfold.

DESIRE FOR GOD

In his discussion of Shankara’s Crest Jewel of Discrimination, Swami Prabhavananda notes that in order for a person to be liberated, he must first have the will to do it.  He first must be born a human, of course, but then he must have the will to know God and be liberated.  Ramakrishna said, pray that you have the will to do it. 
 
Necessary for liberation, Prabhavananda went on to explain, are health, the will, purity, the desire to live a spiritual life, spiritual practices, including “discrimination” between the Atman and the non-Atman, which is to say between the real and the unreal, and then direct perception of Brahman, continuous union with Brahman, constant recollectedness, in other words recalling God throughout the day, and from this, Prabhavananda said, a person attains final liberation.

What he does not say, however, is that these conditions are inevitable in the person.  It will take thousands of lifetimes possibly, hopefully fewer, but it is the nature of the process that the conditions will occur eventually, as will the liberation. 
 
This is because the desire for God and liberation is, in fact, the desire of the Atman for Brahman, its source.  Like the needle of a compass is drawn to a magnet, so is the Atman in a person pulled toward Brahman.  The purpose of life, Ramakrishna said, is to find God, but what he meant by this was that it is the Atman’s purpose, which then, as the Atman emerges in him, becomes the person’s purpose.

CONTRIVED LIFE: A SHORT STORY

He had written five novels over the years, none of which was ever published.  The reason they were not published, according to the editors, publishers, and literary agents he sent the manuscripts to, was because they felt contrived.  They sounded too “made up.”

It occurred to him that this was true of his entire life.  In college, in his jobs, in his personal relationships, people always would say to him, “Fine, but it’s not you.  It’s not who you really are.” 
 
Everything he did he came off somehow as artificial, inauthentic, phony, as if he was putting on an act, even though he tried desperately to convince everyone to the contrary.  He was attempting to make everyone believe he was what he wasn’t, apparently.  Even worse, he was trying to make himself believe he was what he wasn’t.

So he wasn’t a poet, a playwright, a psychologist, a stagehand, a stage carpenter, a stage rigger, a professor, a novelist, a painting contractor, a t.v. story analyst, an author, a proofreader, or an editor.

He had followed his head, exclusively, and not his heart at all, so what he wound up with was a contrived life.  Now, in his old age, he was able to see who he actually was, or more correctly feel who, in fact, he was, called purification in Vedanta. 
 
In short, to find out who he was, he had to find out who he wasn’t, first.  It took a lifetime, in his case.  Many never do discover who they are.  No one ever says to them, “Fine, but it’s not you.”

DIAGNOSIS: A SHORT STORY

Person:  I’m 70 years old, Doc, but I feel 90.  I feel like I won’t make it another month.  What’s up with that?

Doctor:  There’s nothing wrong with you physically, and mentally you are sharp.  And, you have a positive outlook on life.

Person:  So, what’s wrong with me?

Doctor:  You told me you’ve done everything, been everywhere, achieved more in your life than you ever dreamed possible, and you've even awakened spiritual, you said.  From what I can see, you’re done.

Person:  I’m done?

Doctor:  What do you still want to do?

Person:  Nothing.

Doctor:  Yet, you’re telling me you want to live longer, it seems.

Person:  We all want to live as long as he can, don’t we?

Doctor:  Your survival instinct says so, but you are more than your survival instinct.  Who you are, really, knows when you've crossed the finish line.

Person:  God is calling me home?

Doctor:  You are calling you home. 

BUDDHIST COMPASSION

The altruism that Tibetan Buddhism is known for arises from compassion.  Compassion is tied to the fundamental teaching of Buddhism that all sentient beings suffer.  To be alive is to suffer.

In his book The Compassionate Life, His Holiness the Dalai Lama explained compassion this way:

“True compassion is not just an emotional response but a firm commitment founded on reason.  Because of this firm foundation, a truly compassionate attitude toward others does not change even if they (the others) behave negatively. 

“Genuine compassion is based not on our own projections and expectation, but rather on the needs of the other:  irrespective of whether another person is a close friend or an enemy, as long as that person wishes for peace and happiness and wishes to overcome suffering, then on that basis we develop genuine concern for their problem.  This is genuine compassion. 
 
“For a Buddhist practitioner, the goal is to develop this genuine compassion, this genuine wish for the well-being of another, for in fact (the well-being of) every living being throughout the universe.”

GROUPINGS

A photographer friend of mine showed me his most recent grouping of objects, and I said how much I enjoyed them in that particular arrangement, quite apart from what the objects literally were or meant.  Polyreferential art was what this was called in the art world, he told me.

But then all of existence is polyreferential, it seemed to me.  It is all groupings.  I myself am a grouping, which is to say that I, too, am a collection of many things, body, mind, feelings, perceptions, arranged just so, regardless of what the many things literally are or mean.

ENTER BUDDHISM

What if Brahman, God, is not unchanging, eternal, abiding, but is evolving, just like the universe that emanates from him.  What, for that matter, if the universe does not emanate from him at all, but exists, has always existed, quite on its own?  What if the purpose of life is not to find God?  What if, in fact, life has no purpose?

Enter Buddhism.  Buddhism rejects such philosophical questions on the grounds they tie everyone in knots, are crazy-makers.  They are crazy-makers because they cannot be answered with any finality.  They cannot be answered empirically, in other words, to our satisfaction.  Faith is all we have.

But the Buddha wanted nothing to do with faith or with questions concerning the existence and nature of Brahman, God, and the meaning, purpose of life.  Set all those aside, he said.  One issue alone is important, and that is that all sentient beings suffer.

We do not suffer constantly but we do predominately.  Some things cause us more distress than others, but, all together, they make our lives miserable.

Chief among the causes of suffering, the Buddha taught, was attachment.  Attachment in and of itself is not bad.  Rather is it what we become attached to that is the problem.  What we grab onto is transient.  We identify with our egoic selves, for instance, which is ever changing.
 
When we interact with other egoic selves, which are always changing as well, and with the circumstances of our daily lives, in flux, too, we are like ships in a stormy sea.   

We become frustrated, depressed.  Depression always accompanies frustration.  Even though we profess happiness, we are sad.  It is precisely this chronic sadness that the Buddha sought to remedy.

TO INTERPRET OR NOT TO INTERPRET

A major decision that we must make along the way is whether or not to interpret what we are feeling spiritually.  This is to say, do we give the feelings a context? 
 
Our traditional religions are happy to provide this to us, of course.   Vedanta, Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, and so on, are more than willing to teach us how to conceive of and describe our spiritual feelings.

The other option we have is to let our spiritual feelings just be spiritual feelings, nothing more.  Nameless, faceless faith.  But there is a danger in doing so.  We may come to doubt the feelings over time and wind up abandoning them, or at least putting them on the back burner, out of sight, out of mind.

There is nothing wrong with our traditional religions as long as we understand what they actually are.  Eckhart Tolle underscores this.  Religious teachings are meant as sign posts, as pointers, rather than something to be taken literally.  They point to something greater than us, to God, usually, who is himself a pointer. 

On the other hand, there are those who want to take the teachings literally.  Believing that God is personal, for example, and that he has had representatives here on earth is helpful to some of us.  We can relate to Jesus, for instance, as he was a human just like us.  He can serve as an intermediary between us and God. 
 
Having somewhere to put our spiritual feelings aids us.  If it did not, we would not do it, and if we did not do it, we would not have all our religions that have lasted for thousands of years.