From Pilgrim of the Heart - Krishna Das

"In the Bhagavad Gita, which is the most well known of all Indian texts, Bhagavad Gita means, “Song of God” and the story is that a great battle is about to be fought. The hero, the greatest of all the good guys, asks his charioteer, who happens to be God, Krishna, to drive him up to this hill on the battlefield as the dawn is breaking on the first day of the battle, so he can see what is going on.

So, Krishna drives his friend and warrior, Arjuna, up to the top of this hill and they look out over the scene. Arjuna cannot believe what he sees – in both armies are his friends, his teachers, his family members. In both armies are people he loves and respects and he is going to be asked to slaughter all these people. These people represent our personal history, in some way. In order to find the love that lies within us, at one point in the journey we have to turn our backs on everything that appears to be outside us. It is only temporary, but at some point the pain and the suffering that we feel at not having what we want in life, ultimately ourselves, is just too great and we have to turn away.

This chapter of the BG, the first, is called, The Yoga of the Desolation of Arjuna. Despair is an absolute prerequisite for turning within. Yes, we have the faith now, we know that it exists, but where does it exist? Where can we find it? The problem is our habits and the way we live our lives/ We're still looking for it out there -- in this relationship. In this thing or that thing.

When Buddha came out of the jungle after his enlightenment, he spoke about four things – The Four Noble Truths. And the first thing he said was the First Noble Truth,  the Truth of Suffering, dukkha. Now dukkha doesn't just mean suffering, it means the unsatisfactory nature of stuff. We cannot get satisfaction from things. We can get pleasure. But when that passes, we have pain. And when that passes we have pleasure, again.

Neither one of those things is satisfying in a deep way. But we're in this position at this point in our lives, and at that point in my life I was in this position that I still wanted all this stuff. I did not have a good relationship. I did not know how to get what I needed and what I wanted. I was all tied up in knots, completely frustrated. Angry.

So, Arjuna is up there on this hill and he looks out at the battle he has to fight, it is his duty and dharma to fight this fight, and he drops his bow and he falls to his knees, and he says, “I will not fight. I can't fight.”

At this point, Krishna smiles and looks at his friend. Krishna knows -- he knows what will happen. And he sees his friend's predicament and he smiles out of love and also out of knowing that it is inevitable, that this battle must be fought. He starts to talk to Arjuna to convince him to do his duty and to fight this fight. But at this point, it's like when we were trying to convince our self to meditate or do asanas or chanting because we think it's good for us. We don't do it too well if we think it's good for us. The deeper our understanding becomes, the deeper our faith becomes, these things no longer become good to us, they become our way of being good to ourselves. And our way of feeding our own hearts.

As much as we love ourselves, that's how much we can love another being. No more. If we don't know how to be good to ourselves, how can we be good to someone else? We'd like to think we could be, but you know how relationships go,

We see that love outside ourselves, and so we look for it outside of ourselves. We see it in the eyes of a beautiful person or someone we love. As long as we think it's outside, we keep trying to find it and when we never find it and never can possess it, the despair arises. For most people, the despair does not lead to happiness, it leads to more despair. But if, at some point in our lives, if that light has gone on for that minute, and we've seen what's possible, eventually we'll turn toward that more fully as time goes on. It's natural. We want to be happy. How to do it?"

Transcribed rom the marvelous 3 cd talk, Pilgrim of the Heart by Krishna Das, best known for his fantastic chanting. This set features him talking about his journey. It is, quite simply, the most centering and motivating talk I've ever heard or read. I hope it hits you the same way. Please look for it – it is on Sounds True.

What Remains?

Visual Silence

One of the walls of the Rothko Chapel,
each of which show panels of his works,
surrounding the visitor.

From the Rothko Chapel's site, "The Rothko Chapel, founded by Houston philanthropists John and Dominique de Menil, was dedicated in 1971 as an intimate sanctuary available to people of every belief. A tranquil meditative environment inspired by the mural canvases of Russian born American painter Mark Rothko (1903-1970)...."

If there is a Silent Center, I'd have to suggest the remarkable Rothko Chapel in Houston, Texas. I've been going there since 1971, even before I moved back to Houston a few years ago. Now, it is a monthly or twice a month trip from here, down one bus and a short walk through the Montrose area, always nice, to the Chapel itself.

It is a relatively small building, smaller than one might expect, and houses on all sides of the one room area several of the mural works of Mark Rothko, who developed and chose the specific paintings that were included. Ironically, he never actually saw the results, committing suicide before the doors opened.

On Today's visit, a remarkably tall older man and his far shorter wife were stepping out as I was arriving to go in, and he was barking a bit like a bull dog and saying, "I wish somebody would have been here to EXPLAIN that thing to me...." I suspect a number of people leave the museum/chapel voicing similar concerns.

The best I can offer is in the words of a critic who said the paintings were "Visual Silence." When a person first walks in from the brightness of the outside world, what appears to hang on the walls around him or her are large black canvases of paint. ("No wonder the guy killed himself!" others have been heard to say.) One can take their place on one of the lower benches or, if that's not quite right, on the meditation cushions that are there as well.

As the eyes readjust to being indoors, however, what first appeared to be nothing but black paint on a canvas, change and become more revealing. There are colors, some a deep, dark red which begin to be seen as the eyes (and brain) adjust. Textures become apparent. It is not much different than the world appears when one plops down for meditation, the brain chattering like a mad monkey, the temperature feeling either too hot or too cold, the occasional noise from outside the walls of the room -- a car horn or a bird or a dog bark. But, in meditation, just as one doesn't hang onto the sound or the weather or the thoughts --- or, in this case, the first impression of black paint -- one naturally goes deeper, quietly and naturally. The birds outside chirping become part of what is going on, not an interruption. The paintings, in tandem with the eyes, deepen in the same way. That does not mean they become even more intensely black in color. Just the opposite. The mind begins to get out of the way and to quiet down, either in meditation or in looking at the art on the wall in front of you. What you see is not "nothing" but, rather, everything. What you are doing is seeing what is really there, not your concept about what is there -- a flat black stretch of canvas.

Previously unnoticed gradations of shade and color now become clearer. Still the mind continues to calm and rest in the silence as thoughts beat a hasty retreat, or at least slip out the back door, unnoticed. At some times, the room at the Rothko Chapel is like a Quaker Meeting in terms of being full of a Silence that is tangible, although one's immediate impression is that the situation is true -- not localized between your ears, but in and outside the body.

The very very shot hallway leading into the Chapel which has a small table where books are available. Not just any book. Nothing about Rothko or the museum history -- but spiritual works like the Upanishads, Bhagavad Gita, Holy Bible, Koran and others. They are not for sale. They are there to be picked up at one's choice, to quietly leaf through and read and reflect in the silence that ensues.

Some people, like the gentleman I mentioned earlier, just don't get it. That's fine. They leave with the same baggage they came in with. Others, though, leave far lighter when they slip away than they were when they first came in from the world outside. For some, like myself, 30 minutes or an hour of sitting there is a kind of reorientation and redirection, to one beyond words.

You Are The Sky

Five Words

This was a perfect evening in terms of weather, and a friend stopped by and off we went to a dinner and to see the play, The Screwtape Letters, originally a satirical Christian apologetic novel written by C. S. Lewis. Having written and directed a few plays in the world of the theater, I was (being lukewarm about Lewis' theology) impressed by the flawless production itself.


It was an interesting evening, personally. First,  surprisingly for me but reassuringly, the Silence was still there, inside, both during the car ride and restaurant and walking downtown, but when I did speak in short conversations, it was because I wanted to and it didn't particularly bother me one way or the other.  But it was in the restaurant that the Silence was comfortable, supplemented by the occasional few words scribbled on a napkin.

In a line for the ticket wait, two women were talking next to me and I couldn't place the language. I very quietly asked and was told it was Tamil -- a dialect most common in South India and North-east Sri Lanka. I listened to the melody/rhythm of the language and remembered first hearing about Tamil through studying Ramana Maharshi, the great Indian teacher of Advaita and, more to the point, of the Self-Enquiry spiritual technique.

In fact, it has been written that "Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi’s Tamil compositions are revered by scholars of Tamil literature as works of literary genius. ....These verses and compositions ... are chanted daily at Sri Ramanasramam." (that being Ramana Maharshi's surviving Ashram or center.)

Hearing and then asking a few questions was a very short conversation, but the connection was undeniable, having just that day read some works mentioning the Tamil originals and Ramana Maharshi. To have been standing there in that particular line and to have been moved to ask the question -- this is one of those "meaningful coincidences" that Jung termed as synchronicity. You can't make things like that happen.

But back to the restaurant, again,  where Silence basically reigned, there were more than enough bustle and activities going on -- all resulting in a great meal. But it was in a bit of the Silence I came back to attention like a person who has been listening to a distant voice on the edge of sound. I realized I had been looking at the people seated at the restaurant tables and the ones walking by outside, seen through the windows on the sidewalk side of the building.

The dinner conversation to my left, a trio was talking about other dimensions in the Universe with the fervor of a 1960's late night college dorm discussion. Not that I saw each of these things in several steps. I was just there. A kind of witness. I opened my notebook and wrote five words, which I intended to show to my friend across the table, but didn't. I closed the spiral note pad and sat, slightly stunned, and then went back to eating.

Now that I'm home with my two cats, I just looked at what I written. The words were, "The Universe is unfolding, unimpeded."

"All is well," Robert Adams used to say. No matter how screwed up you think the world is, no matter how deeply involved with the quicksand of Maya (Illusion) that you find yourself buying into. All is well. When you see that fact, really not with your eyes but in your heart (spiritual, not physical), and see if applies to you as well as everything else unfolding around you, this whole illusion of you is no longer there to block or edit or voice a bias. In short, the Universe is unfolding, the process perfect. And it does so without "I" trying to be in control or call the shots. In short, unimpeded.

Doubling Down On Silence

View out bedroom window

Bobbled a bit the other day by doing something that is a pretty-much ingrained habit -- picked up a ringing phone.

At first, when I was finished, it felt as if a bubble around me had been broken and, what's more, it didn't feel anywhere near as centered and aware as I had been before the call. It took a night's sleep to where things were thankfully softly treading back into what had become a very important place -- Silence.

This body has had its share (and then some) of increasingly serious problems, which (thankfully for you) I won't go into, and this morning when I got out of bed I remembered the guidepost -- "Either you are working for your freedom or you are working for your bondage."

Yesterday and, more so today, the Silence that I had poked an unwanted hole in was back. My memo notebook in my pocket with a pen, my misstep faded and the Silence took its place.  Now, today, I have a trip to the grocery store for supplies to look forward to, thanks to my friend's kindness. I have written a few emails back and forth with him last few days, but we'll have to see how we can deal with this Silence stuff.

But when I did "fall off the wagon" it was a bit like being knocked 22 steps backwards. I regained my balance in it all by thinking that (1) This is bound to happen. Changes like this, big ones, require some forgiveness on my part for myself. (2) How well the world felt before that fumble was every reason to get back to it. (3) Rather than whimper and tremble about it, it has made me more determined for so many reasons. Some of the little "ground rules" were too lax, and I guess I am doubling down rather than just give up the whole idea.

I don't care, for example, if the phones are plugged in or turned on or they're not. (Although I do, for medical reasons, keep them in. I just don't answer them and wait and listen to any message.)

I'll have the greeting changed to ask a caller to contact me with an email  -- although the exact phrasing hasn't quite gotten firmed up in my head. If something can't be done with email or a few words to a friend on FaceBook, it just doesn't need to be done in talking mode.

What seems to have really helped, though, is just getting back out into the world itself -- with my "Thank you" memo pad and pen, cane and bite to eat in my shoulder bag. Get on buses and enjoy the ride. Go to the store and buy a few things with a smile. Places I have gone to for months take all this in stride when I am Silent.

Can I Help the World?

Humphreys: Can I help the world?
Maharshi: Help yourself and you will help the world.

Being Alone and Self-Inquiry

When I say "alone" I don't mean just physically by one's self in this world.  I mean "alone" and all it suggests:

Pick your own favorite:

    abandoned
    adrift
    alienated
    all alone
    all by one's self
    alone
    cut off
    deserted
    estranged
    forlorn
    forsaken
    isolated
    lonely
    lonesome
    marooned
    ostracized
    shunned
    solitary

At times in my life, I have been there. People and being a yabberholic have, from time to time, been my drug of treatment. Others, I know, bypass that and go straight to alcohol, drugs, food, sex, complaining, pleading -- the list goes on -- whatever seems to help in their self-medication. Or, perhaps they skip the self-medication stage and simply going down into the abyss, like a drowning person who just can't hold their head above water any longer.

Being alone in the above sense suggests you stop for a recess, quietly as you can, and silently ask yourself, "Who is alone?" Without the baggage of thinking of theories or recalling quotes, the naked eventual interior answer, of course, is I.  *I* am alone. Then ask, silently and gently, "Who is this I?" which is another way to say, "Who am I?" which is probably the most effective tool you can use. When you ask, not demand, "Who am I?" there will be even the smallest pause and hesitation. You do NOT, and I cannot repeat this enough, want to answer the question with more thinking, with a thought like, "I am Billy Bob" or (lofty) "I am Consciousness" and so on. This is not a didactic conversation/lecture. In the pause, as it were, gently probe a bit more. "Where did this I come from?"

Remember. You are asking questions, "Who am I?" "Who is this I? You are not making statements or showing off your "knowledge."

Further, even if you are quietly asking and searching (but not answering) your mind quite naturally finally begins thinking again. The brook babbles. The ego does not like the way things are going, and will try to engage you. Instead, when thoughts come into the Silence, again ask, "Who is it that is having these thoughts?" The answer that comes is, "Well, *I* am."  Good. Then, calmly and silently, ask, "Who is this I that has the thoughts?" The answer?  "Me. I am the thinker." Fine. Your next question as you focus on that which offered the answer, is, "Who am I?" or "Who is this I?" or "Who is this I who is thinking?"

And, so it goes. You are back to "Who am I?" Back to the i, self with a small s. This is not meditation or a formal exercise. It is something you should be prepared to do at any time.

The "i" or personal self will bluster and just loves to feed off its own energy like a a self-perpetuating tornado. It, the ego, the false I, is where that above list comes from. At the same time, the i prefers to be top dog. No attention drawn to it, please. Just doing my job. Plus, the bit of sunlight you throw from your own attention in that moment and the scrutiny of questioning will send the i running away, vanishing. As you ask the question and sit and wait, the i makes an "Exit, stage right!" and gaze in that internal direction as hard as you wish, it won't be there. It's not there. It's never been there as anything Real. In fact, it covers that I in you that is Real. You have nothing to get, when it comes to spiritual work. What you have is some cargo to throw overboard, and that cargo, the i, somehow has become cargo that runs the ship. That i gets smaller, the voice more distant. The ego or i is thrown off balance because you didn't get angry, you didn't want to have an intellectual debate, you just are watching, observing what is happening when you ask a simple question.

Know this. That i is not your friend. Friendly saboteur, perhaps. For instance, if you are trying to be Silent in your life and (as happens at first) you fall down and goof up, the i is right here to whisper in your ear: "I told you that you couldn't do this!  I told you it wouldn't work! You NEED thoughts, you NEED conflict, you NEED to react willy-nilly to life!"  In reality, it is the i that needs all that to give its false existence credibility, to get your motor started so it can have energy. It is blowing the dog whistle to get you jumping like a good puppet. You're not playing that game, though. Above all, it certainly doesn't want you to ask, "Who am I?" which would expose what is just an illusion that's been running the show.

An important thing to note, so much so that I've said it in this blog and will say it again. What does the word Real mean, with a capital R? Or, perhaps better for the moment, what does the word "real" mean, anyway? Betcha you don't have an answer that wouldn't choke a philosopher!

Actually, yes, I do have an answer. It's not even complicated, not in the least. The difference between Real and real is very simple. In order for something to be Real, it must be unchanging, permanent, timeless (without birth or death, beginning or end). Everything else appears as real and we treat it as real (or Real), but it isn't. Not really. That includes, dear friends, painful truth about things like the body and the mind -- both are simply conventions or activities or a conglomeration of things that come together for a moment and then are gone again, although we may act like they are still there and still very, very real. Past relationships that crashed and burned, the way at 2 years old at your birthday party you had an unfortunate potty training accident and it has prevented you from ever being comfortable around other people, etc. etc.

The mind is not real, as in lasting or unchanging, just like the body isn't real. Thoughts are not real. You assign ultimate reality to that person in this body who has thoughts about this and that and you call it "I" in 40% of the sentences you say aloud.

But, as we will see in various places in this blog, that I -- the mind, body, thoughts, opinions are not at the end of your question, "Who am I?" and in time, that will be extremely clear. And you, working on freedom, are turning away from the other choice -- bindings and chains and bondage.

In reality, in your deepest place, it is never even remotely possible to be alone, if by that word you mean disconnected and the others on that list at the top of the entry. That knowledge alone doesn't stop the i from squealing and demanding attention. But, knowledge -- books and scriptures and memorized prayers -- is not where your answers will come from, anyway. Those, it seems, come only from Silence.

Oh. And when you return to that Silence, that point where you trace back the source of the mythical i and, stepping beyond, abide in it, you are resting in the Real, that which is called the Self, capital S. That, in a way, is toward Self-Realization, what the famous term means.

Who you are is not the small i, that is the message. It's not real, just a shadow, and your worries and sense of being alone -- and such are like a mirage in the desert you've been dancing with. The real I that is uncovered, that draws you into your spiritual (not physical) heart is known in some circles as the Atman, which  can be called many things. Pure awareness. Consciousness. Even Satchiananda, a Sanskrit word made up of three words and means "being, consciousness, bliss."  Ultimate Reality. If you choose, God. The permanent, unchanging ground-of-being. The world is not a duality and stew of differences, ultimately, but connections and interbeing at One.

That explains why, in dark times, you are, indeed, never alone. Not in your spiritual heart.

As Bobby Said

The "creek" or bayou a five minute walk across the property. To more or less quote vintage Bob Dylan, "I think I'll sit here on this bank and watch the river flow..."

On the Move

After a day of Silence, a bit rough in patches, I have to refer back to a wonderful quote by Rumi that has been posted elsewhere on this blog:

First, the reactions from others. Here I am, carrying around a little spiral memo book with some words on it. If there's a confused look in my direction, I touch at my throat and waggle an index finger in the air and then use my hand like a puppet -- making the universal motion of a talking mouth.  Cannot talk, is what is communicated.

Now, I also have something I've written on the page -- in Walmart it was to ask a clerk where the razors were. She flapped in one direction and then walked off. I checked the aisle, and only found electric razors and clippers. I tried it again and somehow bumped into the same clerk without realizing it was she. "I told you. The next aisle!" I went back for a second glance and she appeared at the end of the aisle and said, loudly, "BeHIND you!" I turned around and there were the disposable razors, which were great. "I just don't know WHAT you want!" she erupted again, before disappearing.

I went the Galleria by bus to the Post Office. My blood sugar had been really low (benefit of Silence and being rather mellowed by it all?) so I opted for MacDonalds and some Chicken -- protein to get things back to a more liveable level. That particular clerk was an amazing person. I showed her my order I'd written on the pad. She knew I could hear -- earbuds in my ear from my music gave that away -- and she smiled and told a coworker to make sure when this order was ready to take it to me, pointing me out.

Then, I paid her and -- my little invention -- the first page of the small spiral memo pad has a message I've written and it has been seen by clerks and bus drivers -- It simply says,"Thank you!" This time, I held it just under my chin for her to read and smiled over the top of it. When I turned to walk away, the cashier said to someone, "Oh, bless his heart!"

I didn't get a receipt -- and didn't now what my order was "filed under." I went back up, and pointed out my order in my memo book to another worker. No problem. She turned and asked which cashier had taken the order -- nicely, at that -- and in ten seconds I had the order in my hand.

As for me, keep in mind I'd done some limited bits of Silence as of late, but not a full run at things. I was amazed. Absolutely astonished at how I felt. I sat and ate and the whole world, and, more particularly, my mind was just plain clear and still. What I was looking at was the same, as if the focus had been adjusted and even the lighting more "alive." I don't have another word for it, but that's as close as I can come.

The HEB grocery run was more of the same, only I was getting a little slicker on having the book ready ("Could you double bag these?" or "Thank  you!") On the way home on the bus, bags in hand, the world was, well, lighter, as in less heavy. Head the same way. The bus driver let me on and immediately started the bus on down the road, which tossed me backwards as cane and umbrella flew. No problem. I sat down and picked them up. He did a few more boneheaded things - like slowed at a Bus Stop but didn't see the woman coming up 2 feet from the bus' closed door and he took off again -- as if his goal was to break the national land speed record.

I noticed the bus number, but the whole idea of getting on a high horse and calling to report the guy appeared ridiculous, a thought not worth riding off with and grousing about for the shabby treatment. It was left behind, much like the poor passenger signalling outside for the door to open.

Today, Stillness

Stillness

十方同聚會 The ten directions converging,

個個學無爲 Each learning to do nothing,

此是選佛場 This is the hall of Buddha's training;

心空及第歸 Mind's empty, all's finished.

   
    P'ang Yün (龐蘊 Hõ Un)
   (Two Zen Classics 263)

Nothing If Not Flexible

Good thing I didn't pick today to start my deeper excursion into Silence.  This morning has seen some medical problems that involved several phone conversations from medical personnel as well as angels who are calling to keep an eye on me.

Things seem to be going better, but after the torrent of having to get and give information and deal with things, it all seems my meager powers have been overwhelmed. In short, a clean start tomorrow seems like a far smarter and more fair to myself thing to do.

After I'd written the above, I popped open a book I enjoy -- Silence of the Heart by Robert Adams. I pick it up from time to time, and although the book has the word "Silence" in the title is isn't what you might think. It is about the meanings behind Advaita Vedanta, not a treatise on maintaining Silence.

When I flipped open the book I read:

"You should not accept book learning at face value. You should not accept anyone's experiences at face value. You should develop your own truth. I can tell you, the world is Brahman, and that Brahman is Absolute Reality. Absolute Reality is Pure Awareness, and so forth. And so on. What good does that do to you if you are hurting? There are things that come into your life that you take very seriously. And, you do not understand that your social body is going through its karma, and it has absolutely nothing to do with 'You'. You identify with the conditioning. That is the first Truth you have to admit to yourself."

 Thanks for the reminder, Robert. Much appreciated.

And if you're new to the site or don't know what the word "Brahman" means, not a problem. Take a look at this series of posts.

Silence is ....

Day Minus Three, Part 1

Ok, after a few weeks of rather short periods of maintaining Silence during the past few days, just sticking a spiritual toe in the water, the day after tomorrow is when I plan to start on a longer term journey. For that reason, this entry is a bit lengthy and broken down into 2 parts.

If you have been considering doing the same kind of "vow of silence" or mauna or are now practicing it, I hope these little notes dropped along the way are of some help.

I have two things with me to start with. The first is the knowledge/experience from my limited voyages (as in just getting the lay of the land). The second is a more specific sense of why in the world I want to do this.

As to the first, there are a few practicalities (a subject I did not major in in college, I assure you). From my point of view, all this Silence stuff is not just an easy-peasy jaunt. With my increasing "test flights" I already know that trying to be Silence can suddenly stray into a spoken "Thank you" or slog off into a chitchat mode with someone on the bus or with the cashier in a checkout line. Here's the stumbling block -- to really practice a life of Silence, those things are going to have to disappear. The directions are easy. Step One: Don't talk.  Step Two: Repeat.

On the other hand, the days of maintaining Silence for short periods of time have included a hint of the vast possibilities and promises. For one thing, almost from the start, the annoying thoughts that chatter in my head -- what Zen loves to call "the monkey mind" -- did indeed grow silent, silent in a new kind of way.

In my world, there are the day to day quakes -- like the Houston drivers that completely disregard any concept of "right of way" when I'm crossing a busy street with the walk-lights. In Austin, my home for ages, people are a bit more attuned to the "pedestrian" to the point where it can feel like they turn off their car at a stopsign and get out to let you cross.

In Houston, no such luck. "Right of way" means, "I have a car. You're walking. I have the right of way and don't forget it!" With that, they try to see how fast and close they can zip past you when making a right turn on red -- without even tapping on their brake. I admit, it used to make me go ballistic. Thoughts and curses and a spirited "Hey!" would spring up like a Geiger counter clicking into action.

One such example stands out. At a stoplight, a car pulled up almost into the intersection I was crossing, completely taking up not one but two markings of the crosswalk.  I approached the car, looking back over my shoulder to see if it was safe with the coming traffic flow to walk around the car and into the street itself. The man's car window was down and I kept walking with my wooden old cane.  The driver's eyes latched onto me through the open window and he said with some anger, "What?! I should have hit you! I need the wood!"

A lesser person would have replied, "That's what your wife told me." Or one who was tired of living without tire-tracks up his body. Or one who didn't think of it answer for another block.

So, I admit, it would set my teeth on edge. I could dwell on an incident  like that for blocks at a time. moaning "Life is not fair!  Who are these idiots brushing away my legally justified spot in the road?"

Things began to change. With the small forays into Silence that I started doing during the day, things I was surprised at what I discovered. Little by little, those Geiger counter clickings of anger just did not tick through my brain. Again, I was flatly amazed. All this is part of an important fact to keep in mind -- if you tell your brain over and over NOT to do something because it is the wrong thing to do, you have absolutely nothing but open rebellion. Your mind, your ego, is constantly on the verge of trying to take control or defend itself. That's what it does "best" and you'll loose that arm wrestling competition again and again. Meanwhile, the real you, your true and absolute identity, remains covered over like a window covered by coats of dust and sludge.

So, how do you find that real part of yourself? Short answer: not with more words. That is an ongoing theme that makes up this entire blog.

With the increased letting go or surrendering that comes with attention to Silence (even a small effort) there comes at first a fragile peace. You immediately realize that it points in the direction of some very deep changes. In fact, with even a little attention and Silence that has happened so far, while on or off the streets I find I'm just not jumping on a angry thought and riding pff down the road.

Ok, indulge me, please. That image reminds me of another image -- the amazing Slim Pickens in the wonderful movie Dr. Strangelove. I remember him doing a bareback cowboy ride, waving his hat joyously, as he straddles a falling atomic bomb dumped from his airplane.

Now, that zone of Silent-mode isn't some kind of magic. It is also not something you have to go get. That silence is something already within you, something you have to allow to become uncovered. That is accomplished, first, by Silence, supported by other disciplines we'll talk about in Silence Is Calling, Suffice to say for now, I have come to notice that the space between thoughts just stretches out and the thoughts don't automatically pile on at the speed of light and throw a stranglehold on me. In the process, there is more time to naturally limit and discard the little waves. For me, that's becoming more of a major gift, and it makes me so very eager to get on down the road with Silence as a calling card.

Day Minus Three, Part 2

Even in laying the groundwork for the practice of Silence, there are those practical things to pay attention to. First, for example, on a visit to the store yesterday I picked up a very small spiral-bound memo book and a pen. The purpose is to write very short notes to a person instead of talking. to them. I even hunted around and found a small 5 x 7 chalkboard to use for the same purpose, perhaps to carry in my shoulder-bag.

Now, in this, I don't feel like going as far as Meher Baba, a teacher whose own Silence-mode lasted for over half a century. At first, he used a small board with letters printed on it and pointed to those letters as if typing when he wanted to "speak" with a person. Alas, I admit my spelling would never allow for that!  It is a bit like the old Woody Allen movie where he sauntered up to rob a bank and handed the bank security guard a note that the guard read aloud: "Put the money in a sack.  I have a gub." The guard then said, puzzled, "What is a gub?"

That led to a discussion as a frustrated Allen explained, "That's gun.  G-U-N!"

The guard shook his head and replied, "No, that's definitely Gub!"

Another practical lesson I am trying to adjust to. When I was in the midst of exploring a limited Silent-Mode, my 2 cats (I usually talk to them often) were totally confused. Still, they had me sitting on the floor, stroking them. I'd occasionally whisper.  (Ok, yes, but perhaps Compassion trumps cheating in this case.) The point is, things went well. The world didn't end. They got their food. They still hop on the bed and go to sleep in me, so it can't be as deeply traumatizing as I feared it would be.

In the instance of family ties or spouses or loved ones (as opposed to cats) be sure to explain what you are going to do before you actually start doing it. Talk about Silence (admittedly a very zen concept) and what help and support you need. Admit mistakes and inconsistency in practice will happen.

My case is different, since I rarely see anyone beyond a casual or friendly recognition. As far as figuring out ground rules for yourself, that will depend. Many people immediately have gone straight into total silence, observing but otherwise ignoring people they come across and so on. For myself, not talking is already a very big change for me. But I decided that for me, Silence means Silence without phone conversations. On the other hand, that does not mean I won't be writing out words on a piece of paper for a stranger. In the same way, this does not mean I won't be typing a chat the very rare texting a message. If anything, I might just myself communicating from a deeper and more authentic place. In any event, for the most part that's a comfortable understanding for me to reach.

But, and this is essential, all this Silent thing is not a Houdini stunt of seeing how long I can hold my breath chained underwater while making a dramatic escape. As it'll weave its way through the entries that follow in this blog, this is part of a spiritual quest. It is not some self-help bandage, although I can see how a bit of Silent Mode could help just about everybody at some level with unwanted thoughts and fears and gnawing anxieties and screaming meemies.

To say it another way.  Although I enjoy reading books about or by people like Ramana Maharishi, Robert Adams, Ram Dass and several others, there's a basic Truth involved. One can do all those particular things -- reading, listening to tapes, watching video of spiritual masters teaching -- all of which really is often an effort to keep the monkey mind entertained and placated, that fraudulent constellation known as the ego. The ego gets proud of the fact that it is so knowledgeable, that it is a member of the Spiritual Book Club and so forth.

Be aware of this -- As many have said, real insight and understanding never never comes out of words. Ego boosting, the intellect, yes, it's healthy food. Still, real understanding only comes out of Silence. This does not mean it only happens to someone who takes Silence as a way of life. It is what can be called an "Ah-ha!" moment. It seems to come out of nowhere as a gift, an insight or a realization. Such a moment bypasses the intellectual circuits that the ego has elaborately wired into and commandeered make itself feel more grandiose and important. Silence, and here I mean direct experience and insight, is the only way something is ever realized if it is to enter the heart.

Quieter

"The quieter you become, the more you can hear."
-Ram Dass

At An Early Age

This will come as no surprise to people who know me, I have to say. When I was just a young kid, my mother was called into the dreaded Teacher-Parent conference. She showed up at the school (without me knowing a thing about it) and the Teacher said. "It's about Brian."  My Mother asked what was wrong. "Well," the teacher said, "Brian will talk to the little girl on his left. Brian will talk to the boy on his right. He'll talk to the child in front of him. He'll talk to the child behind him." With that, she leaned closer and said,  "And when no one is there, he'll talk to himself!"

When I say a break from talking and yabbering, I am painfully aware that decision is well deserved in my life. I started at a young age!

Somewhere, perhaps, there's a 62 year old woman who sat behind me in my 1st grade class. I hope she reads this. I also know what she'll say: "It's about time!"

A Great Silence

"A Great Silence overcomes me, and I wonder why I ever thought to use language." - Jalaluddin Rumi - See more at: http://www.sandhyamaargainstitute.org/2013/04/power-of-silence.html#sthash.kM4JO1or.dpuf

Whoever can remain silent everyday for a full year becomes worthy of thousands of years of praise in heaven." - Chanakya Niti, 11/9. - See more at: http://www.sandhyamaargainstitute.org/2013/04/power-of-silence.html#sthash.kM4JO1or.dpuf

Whoever can remain silent everyday for a full year becomes worthy of thousands of years of praise in heaven." - Chanakya Niti, 11/9. - See more at: http://www.sandhyamaargainstitute.org/2013/04/power-of-silence.html#sthash.kM4JO1or.dpuf

Anything That Happens To You

 

Anything that happens to you, you have earned.
Therefore the wise student keeps silent.
When I say,
"Keep silent", I don't mean just not to talk, but causes the mind to be silent.
For you can be silent and you can be cursing under your breath, as you know. And you can be saying statements like,
"He's crazy.
He doesn't know what he's talking about".
Your mind is working.
Silence refers to the mind.

Robert Adams
from Silence of the Heart, one of the very best spiritual books I have ever read.

Thich Nhat Hanh on Silence

Inner Silence

"The inner silence is self-surrender. And that is living without the sense of ego. Solitude is in the mind of humanity. Silence is ever speaking; it is the perennial flow of "language." It is interrupted by speaking; for words obstruct this mute language. Silence is permanent and benefits the whole of humanity. . . . By silence, eloquence is meant. It is the best language. There is a state when words cease and silence prevails."

Ramana Maharshi

Thou Art That, Part 1

When it comes to how Silence -- as in not speaking in the world around you -- has anything to do with trying to enter more deeply into a Spiritual life, don't be mislead.

What one is working on is not the mechanics of the spoken voice, per se, for that is just the vehicle. Instead, it acts as a reinforcement and a calmative remedy to the prattle going on constantly inside one's head. Anyone who has ever taken up meditation, for instance, is often shocked by the non-stop slyness of the thought process. To try and stop that can be a battle, a civil war between the ears. On top of that, talking and thinking are an exhaustive pair, and energy that can be used toward in Spiritual directions is dissipated.

Who is it that makes all this turmoil, even when one has voiced the goal to stop the rolling dialog and, more importantly, why at all?

For me, the best explanation is found in what is known in its Hindu tradition as Advaita Vedanta. Don't get hung-up if that seems a stopping point. The tradition of a vow of silence or the attention to silence in Spiritual work cuts across all barriers we, rather foolishly, have constructed. Christianity, for example, has a rich tradition of silence in their monasteries. Buddhism often points to the same technique. Parts of Hinduism seem to have made it their center point. Or, from the Sufi tradition:

    A very devout Persian king was asked by his prime minister, 'You are spending most of the night in meditation and all day long you work. How can that go on?' The Shah said, 'During the night I pursue God; during the day God follows me.' It is the same with silence: he who seeks silence is followed by silence. So it is with all things we wish for; when we seek after them sufficiently, they follow us in time by themselves."

To better understand the dynamics, since our thinking minds like anything approaching a schematic drawing explanation, consider this. We are in search of the unchanging, the imperishable, the Real. We start with the idea that if something is Real, the qualities must include unchanging and Present. Things that do change and are temporary are not akin to the Real. Following that path, it should be very obvious that the body, which we pamper and use makeup and cosmetic surgery to prop up over the years is not Real. Put another way, you are not your Body.

Then again, what of Mind? The mind is changing constantly. Things are approved of or diligently sought after one day, but those same thoughts/goals are tossed aside or vanish the next day or the the next hour. Mind, which can also be called ego, is better referred to as "I", the self with a small s. And what are its contents? For the most part, the thoughts are either memories of the past or plans for the future, both of which combine to give the "I" in our life some continuity and realty.  I like this. I don't like that. I feel bad. I think. The list of automatic identification goes on and on.

The example often given is of images on a movie screen. On the screen there may be fires or floods, and although the audience buys into the entire thing with rapt attention, there is behind these things a Screen, onto which these images are projected. If you see a pile of gold on the movie screen, you can reach for it and try to grab a handful, but what happens is you hit the screen. Try to scoop up some sand from the movie's beach and the same thing will happen.

So, you are not your mind, although you identify yourself with it constantly.

In this analogy, we are part of the action in life, fighting for this or claiming and grabbing onto that. Yet these things have no more reality than the images that dance on the screen, even if you're watching a costly 3-D movie. Behind those images, though, is the unchanging and unaffected. Behind this life of changing, empty images, says the Hindu tradition, there is something unchanging. The screen, in the analogy, is that which in life is called Brahman.

Absolute Consciousness, the Ultimate Reality or Ultimate Identity are commonly used in referring to Brahman. "The which to which there is no whicher" was how Alan Watts refereed to it. The problem is, all things have name and form, all the parts, but the whole, which is undivided and nondualistic (without opposites) is an entirely different dimension.

So, the next entry, Part 2, will talk more about how all this relates to you. And who you are. Keep in mind, Brahman is more a convention than a name, really. It is like when Lao Tzu in the Tao te Ching said of the Tao (The absolute principle underlying the universe) " The Tao that can be named is not the true Name."

Thou Art That, Part 2

According to one definition:

Brahman is 'the unchanging Reality amidst and beyond the world which cannot be exactly defined^. It has been described in Sanskrit as Sat-cit-ānanda (being-consciousness-bliss) and as the highest Reality."

 Dr. Frank Morales has likewise said,

Brahman does not refer to the anthropomorphic concept of God of the Abrahamic religions. When we speak of Brahman, we are referring neither to the "old man in the sky" concept, nor to the idea of the Absolute as even capable of being vengeful, fearful or engaging in choosing a favorite people from among His creatures. For that matter, Brahman is not a "He" at all, but rather transcends all empirically discernable categories, limitations and dualities. 

Zen has a wonderful saying -- "Don't mistake the finger pointing for the moon." In other words, the finger points to something beyond words. I remember when I had a small puppy a dog food commercial came on the TV.  I was pointing like crazy for the dog to look at the dog on the television screen. The dog focused on my hand and watched it motioning and pointing and flapping and never looked beyond it.

Some of the words (remember, pointers?) that have been used for Brahman include God, Absolute Consciousness, the Supreme Identity, and others. Aldous Huxley wrote,

The Perennial Philosophy is expressed most succinctly in the Sanskrit formula, tat tvam asi ('That art thou'); the Atman, or immanent eternal Self, is one with Brahman, the Absolute Principle of all existence; and the last end of every human being, is to discover the fact for himself, to find out who he really is.

Now, Huxley mentions the "Atman" which the second piece of the puzzle. Atman is often translated as "individual soul" which is part but not the big picture when it comes to meanings. The Atman, the Real you as opposed to the ego, is that can be known as the Self with a capital s. Alas, it has been covered over by the actions of the mind which has more or less commandeered things and steered you off into a ditch.

The good news is, Enlightenment or Nirvana or Moksha (liberation) is in you at this very moment. You don't need to import anything. You don't need at add a single thing. You don't need to read more books or attend more lectures. That's brain-food or, in our case, mind-food. In fact, you need to get the chattering mind, the small self, to jump ship. To vanish. To be seen as it is, not lived by what it isn't.

To cut to the chase, the Atman is your essence and is eternal, unchanging, and indistinguishable from the very essence of the universe.

It is not a question of bring more in, but dumping more out.

To cite Alan Watts again, he wrote a book called The Book On The Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are. And, in this culture, what a taboo it is!  The Upanishads, one of the foremost books of the East, says it quite simply when talking about the Atman and the Brahman, between that interior essence and the Supreme Identity. First, Atman is Brahman, as the equation goes. The Atman is the individual soul, the Brahman is the Absolute Consciousness.

Secondly, and these are powerful, in Sanskrit they cat is out of the bag, so to speak. are "Tut tvam asi" addresses the Atman/Brahman and concludes that underneath the illusion that has caused you to feel so isolated and alone, "Thou art that."

Now, make careful note of this. If you go around in front of friends and family saying, "I am Brahman. I am God" then there will be a guy in a white coat knocking on your door inside of twenty minutes. Why? Because you are, in essence, saying "i am God. i (the everyday mind) am Brahman." Do you see what is being said? The individual i is an illusion, a delusion. When the mind falls silent, is shuffled off the stage, there is no reason for such talk. It is true for you, yes, but true for everyone in this world, every creature, every thing. It is the energy of Brahman that is all there is, right at this moment you just don't see it.

Now, you perhaps can begin to see why Silence in terms of words and thoughts polishes the mirror, as Ram Dass says, and you see things as they are. It is why the quote on this blog is so perfect. Have another look:

First Things First

I'm an old guy and I've decided I have just said too damn many words.

From winning public speaking contests a hundred years ago in high school to touring as a professional storyteller to playing music on stages and fronting a band to having had a three hour a day talk show on an ABC News/Talk format radio station, the yakking has gone on and on.

That part of me was on a collision course with another bigger and more important part of my life -- a spiritual journey that has gone on as long as I can remember, from Christian to Buddhist to traditional Christian mystic to what is known as Advaita Vedanta. As well, you can mix in one part Quaker, where in weekly Meetings there were both moments of intense silence as well as occasional, "inspired" speaking. So many ways, but so many words. Shake and stir. As if "talking words" were not enough, let's just pile on a few of my books, stage plays and screenplays for good measure.

Now, as time dwindles, I find myself in the role I never anticipated. Living alone in the strange, often hostile city where I was born. Dependent upon things like Social Security Disability and the remarkable medical treatment of the community hospital and clinics. After years of friends and band members and a wife around me, and, my Ace in the whole, beloved children now are grown or traveling the world or having children of their own. It is rare if I see anyone I count a real and deeper friend (although there are a host of good people at regular stops). Add to that the occasional odd character who drifts in and out like a boat loose from any moor or calls me and wakes me at 4:30am saying she's found herself, at 59 years of age, by really, really wanting to make paper dolls.

Teeth are falling out, one by one. There's this or that medical concern. There are gifts, like my cats, Sita and Rumi, who help keep me opening my eyes. A sister far away that I talk to on a blessed regular basis. A daughter and my grandchild I love to see and talk with on Skype every chance I get. A son back from photographing around the world who has the talent to make a heck of a phone call and comes across like a champ when needed. A cousin who's been part of my world for all my life who would take notice, even across the miles, if I was having a bad day or simply wasn't breathing. An earth angel or two who keep an eye in my direction now and again. A very deeply appreciated friend who makes sure I get to the grocery store twice a month and now and then treats me to a movie or for beloved Mexican food. In life, where there is an enchilada and a puffy chile con queso, there's hope.

My first reaction, meaning specifically to the first two sentences in the previous paragraph, is to feel sorry for myself, to just give up. In some moments, however, I see it as a slightly less than gentle nudge to turn my mind and heart in a different way. If I am, basically, alone each day, it brings back the times I visited or stayed at monasteries, some Buddhist, some otherwise. In that moment, what I see is not the aging and rather tenuous body. Instead, I see options. Examples. One of those examples can be glimpsed in the lives and talents of Chinese Taoist hermits, wise beyond my pay grade. Another in the Vedanta-infused sannyasin -- actually a designated late era in a person's life. A sannyasin can also known be known as ‘renunciate’, a person who has dedicated their entire life towards spiritual pursuits. These "titles" recognize a kind of isolation from participation in the ways of the World.

What's more, there is something that has caught my attention, something I'd often heard of but which, now, seems to me to have a powerful attraction. From it comes this entire idea of a small blog. That "something" is called in Sanskrit "Mauna" and means silence. Poets of the heart, who took refuge in the isolation of high mountains overlooking waterfalls, streams or the flowers in a field, to read their works. Many great sages and teachers have recommended it down through the spiritual part of my travels. Another example that certainly feels within my world as it is now come from the past, where I have always noticed it or read a tiny bit about it: the tales of those people, often of Vedanta or Hindu tradition, who undertook the practice of maintaining Silence.  Those who lived within the World, but not of the World, who made it their focus in the Act 3 of their lives to know what it means to be not just knowledgeable about spiritual theory, but, rather, to live, move and have their being within it.

After a lifetime, though, it appears it is my turn for silence. For me, this silence first comes in the form of not talking. Writing? Not so often, but, like others before me, I don't see a problem with doing it. A tiny spiral notebook and a pen in my pocket for asking this or that of a bus driver or, like a flash card, for thanking them. Somewhere, I even have a mini chalkboard, a 5 x 7 if I need it and if I remember to carry a rag to erase it.

In teachers, I lean toward people such as Ramana Maharshi, Robert Adams, Ram Dass and Krishna Das (love his chanting, although the tapes of his telling of his story are fascinating. Fascinating.), stretching back to old friends like Alan Watts and an Episcopal priest I knew who, in an day's conversation, was like what my friend described as something akin to "a spiritual chiropractor."

People often start this kind of Silence in their own moments, when they happen across it and realize a hint of the power it holds for themselves and the quelling of their monkey mind that would rather chatter and run the show. They set aside a part of one morning of the week to practice and experience it. Then they think of a full day, then a week, a month or to no end of the silence in sight.

So, paradoxically, with this blog I'll type about things like Advaita Vedanta or Mauna or Silence. Meditation techniques. The practice of Self-Enquiry. How to deal with the guaranteed challenges that come when you want to be Silent in this world, necessarily silencing the thoughts. Ultimately, as always, you are your own worse enemy, standing in your own way. But what happens when that chattering You, the one standing  and yelling in the front row, actually stops talking and just sits down?

Welcome aboard.

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